of the
far-off steeples of St. Andrews. And now he was sent down by the English
Privy Council as a preacher to Berwick-upon-Tweed; somewhat shaken in
health by all his hardships, full of pains and agues, and tormented by
gravel, that sorrow of great men; altogether, what with his romantic
story, his weak health, and his great faculty of eloquence, a very
natural object for the sympathy of devout women. At this happy juncture
he fell into the company of a Mrs. Elizabeth Bowes, wife of Richard
Bowes, of Aske, in Yorkshire, to whom she had borne twelve children. She
was a religious hypochondriac, a very weariful woman, full of doubts and
scruples, and giving no rest on earth either to herself or to those whom
she honoured with her confidence. From the first time she heard Knox
preach she formed a high opinion of him, and was solicitous ever after
of his society.[87] Nor was Knox unresponsive. "I have always delighted
in your company," he writes, "and when labours would permit, you know I
have not spared hours to talk and commune with you." Often when they had
met in depression he reminds her, "God hath sent great comfort unto
both."[88] We can gather from such letters as are yet extant how close
and continuous was their intercourse. "I think it best you remain till
to-morrow," he writes once, "and so shall we commune at large at
afternoon. This day you know to be the day of my study and prayer unto
God; yet if your trouble be intolerable, or if you think my presence may
release your pain, do as the Spirit shall move you.... Your messenger
found me in bed, after a sore trouble and most dolorous night, and so
dolour may complain to dolour when we two meet.... And this is more
plain than ever I spoke, to let you know you have a companion in
trouble."[89] Once we have the curtain raised for a moment, and can look
at the two together for the length of a phrase. "After the writing of
this preceding," writes Knox, "your brother and mine, Harrie Wycliffe,
did advertise me by writing, that your adversary (the devil) took
occasion to trouble you because that _I did start back from you
rehearsing your infirmities. I remember myself so to have done, and that
is my common consuetude when anything pierceth or toucheth my heart.
Call to your mind what I did standing at the cupboard at Alnwick_. In
very deed I thought that no creature had been tempted as I was; and when
I heard proceed from your mouth the very same words that he troubles me