Elizabeth's last great effort at self-glorification was to hang on to life relentlessly and infuriatingly until 1603. But in the latter part of her reign she might have died at any moment, and her worried subjects, as well as the cheerfully expectant Scots north of the border, did not have our advantage of hindsight. To the English in the confusing and often demoralizing decade of the 1590s was therefore added one miserable certainty: the moment of her death would usher in radical change. Whoever her successor was, he (or just possibly she) was likely to be a foreigner. The best to be hoped for was James VI, king of Scotland, experienced politician and notable amateur theologian, head, in his own view, and mere member according to prominent Scottish divines, of a kirk whose purity and godliness – at least in its own confident eyes – left that of England far behind. So a critical aspect of the last decade of Elizabeth's rule was that Scotland was more relevant than ever before to English perceptions and anticipations. English politics, English patronage, the English economy, would all be deeply affected by King James VI and I. But even before 1603, the state of the Scottish church was a matter of considerable concern. Thus the kirk forms a fitting postscript to Professor Collinson's chapter. That brings out compellingly the nastiness of the 1590s. When one adds in the dimension of anticipation – and fear – of the future, then one comes up against not just nastiness, but a fundamental clash of interests and ideologies which were to create the misunderstandings and tensions of the early years of the Jacobean English church.