From The Life of John Knox, by the late DR. MCCRIE.
ON Friday, the 21st November, 1572, Knox 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 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 23rd (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 Elphinston. 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 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 Kinyeanleugh, Johnston of Elphington, and Dr. Preston, three of his most intimate acquaintance, sat by turns at his bedside. Kinyeanleugh asked him if he had any pain. “It is no painful pain, but such a pain as shall soon, I trust, put an end to the battle. I must leave the care of my wife and children to you,” 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.
After this he appeared to fall into a slumber, interrupted by heavy moans, during which the attendants looked every moment for his dissolution. But at length he awaked, as if from sleep, and being asked the cause of his sighing so deeply, replied, “I have formerly, during my frail life, sustained many contests and many assaults of Satan; but at present he hath assailed me most fearfully, and put forth all his strength to devour, and make an end of me at once. Often before has he placed my sins before my eyes, often tempted me to despair, often endeavoured to ensnare me by the allurements of the world; but these weapons were broken by the sword of the Spirit,—the Word of God,—and the enemy failed. Now he has attacked me in another way. The cunning serpent has laboured to persuade me that I have merited heaven and eternal blessedness by the faithful discharge of my ministry. But blessed be God, who has enabled me to beat down and quench this fiery dart, by suggesting to me such passages of Scripture as these, ‘What hast thou that thou hast not received?—By the grace of God I am what I am.—Not I, but the grace of God in me.’ Upon this, as one vanquished, he left me. Wherefore I give thanks to my God, through Jesus Christ, who has been pleased to give me the victory; and I am persuaded that the tempter shall not again attack me, but, within a short time, I shall, without any great pain of body, or anguish of mind, exchange this mortal and miserable life for a blessed immortality through Jesus Christ.”
He then lay quiet for some hours, except that now and then he desired them to wet his mouth with a little weak ale. At ten o’clock, they read the evening prayer, which they had delayed beyond the usual hour, from an apprehension that he was asleep. After this exercise was concluded, Dr. Preston asked him if he had heard the prayers. “Would to God,” said he, “that you and all men had heard them as I have heard them, —I praise God for that heavenly sound.” The doctor rose up, and Kinyeanleugh sat down before his bed. About eleven o’clock, he gave a deep sigh, and said, “Now it is come.” Bannatyne immediately drew near, and desired him to think upon those comfortable promises of our Saviour, Jesus Christ, which he had so often declared to others; and, perceiving that he was speechless, requested him to give them a sign that he heard them and died in peace. Upon this he lifted up one of his hands, and, sighing twice, expired without a struggle.
On Wednesday, the 26th of November, he was interred in the churchyard of St. Giles. His funeral was attended by the newly-elected Regent. Morton, by all the nobility who were in the city, and a great concourse of people. When his body was laid in the grave, the Regent emphatically pronounced his eulogium in these words, “There lies he who never feared the face of man.”
In contemplating such a character as that of Knox, it is not the man so much as the reformer, that ought to engage our attention. The talents which are suited to one age and station would be altogether unsuitable to another; and the wisdom displayed by Providence, in raising up persons endowed with qualities singularly adapted to the work which they have to perform for the benefit of mankind, demands our particular consideration. We must admire the austere and rough reformer, whose voice once cried in the wilderness, who was clothed with camel’s hair, and girt about the loins with a leathern girdle, who came neither eating nor drinking, but, laying the axe to the root of every tree, warned a generation of vipers to flee from the wrath to come, saying, even to the tyrant upon the throne, “It is not lawful for thee.” And we must consider him as fitted for “serving the will of God in his generation,” according to his rank and place, as well as his divine Master, whose advent he announced, who “did not strive, nor cry, nor cause his voice to be heard in the streets, nor break the bruised reed, nor quench the smoking flax.” To those who complain, that they are disappointed at not finding, in our national Reformer, courteous manners and a winning address, we may say, in the language of our Lord to the Jews concerning the Baptist: “What went ye out into the wilderness for to see? A reed shaken with the wind? What went ye out for to see? A man clothed in soft raiment? Behold, they which are gorgeously apparelled, and live delicately, are in king’s courts. But what went ye out for to see? A prophet? Yea, I say unto you, and more than a prophet.” To the men of this generation, as well as to the Jews of old, may be applied the parable of the children sitting in the market-place, and calling one to another, and saying, “We have piped unto you, and ye have not danced; we have mourned unto you, and ye have not wept.” Disaffection to the work often lurks under cavils against the instruments by which it is carried on; and had Knox been softer and more yielding in his temper, he would have been pronounced unfit for his office by the very persons who now censure his harshness and severity. “But wisdom is justified of all her children.” Before the Reformation, superstition, shielded by ignorance, and armed with power, governed with gigantic sway. Men of mild spirits and of gentle manners would have been as unfit for taking the field against this enemy, as a dwarf or a child for encountering a giant. What did Erasmus in the days of Luther? What would Lowth have done in the days of Wickliffe, or Blair in those of Knox? Viewing his character in this light, those who cannot regard him as an amiable man may without hesitation, pronounce him as a great Reformer.