THE LIFE OF BERNARD GILPIN, A MAN MOST HOLY and renowned among the Northern English.  
Faithfully written by the Right Reverend Father in God GEORGE CARLETON Lord Bishop of Chichester, and published for the satisfaction of his Countrymen, by whom it was long since earnestly desired.  The just shall be had in everlasting remembrance. Psal. 112. 6. The memory of the righteous shall be blessed, but the name of the wicked shall rot. Prov. 10. 7. 
LONDON, Printed by WILLIAM JONES, dwelling in Red-crosse-streete. 1629.   

GEORGE BISHOP OF CHICHESTER, TO WILLIAM BELUSS Knight, wisheth salvation in Christ.  
IF in the Church of God, there were many such as Gilpin was, I should hold it needless, to recommend the memorial of this Man unto the world. But seeing there are so few, or (to speak freely what I think) none at all, who (following the rule of sorare piety, and sanctimony) have propounded so notable an example, to all those who do aspire to ablessed life, and constantly walked in the same) I conceive that such a pattern, would kindle the zeal of many good men, to walk in so fair a way, though happily they were not able to attain to the perfection thereof. Examples of the like piety in holy men we have heard of many in ancient histories, & often read of them in their writings, but in men of this our age it is not to be found: For so far short are we from this zeal in furtherance of piety, that now it is to be feared, left Religion (so eagerly and joyfully undertaken, and professed at first) will come to be even loathed, and rejected of many, and so finally come to confusion: seeing experience of former times hath confirmed this truth unto us that profaneness of life and manners hath drawn withal the ruin of Religion, thereby to give us a taste now of what it is like to do hereafter; Now we make no doubt, but (in so great a decay of ancient holiness) Gilpins name (like the Owl amongst other Birds) when it comes abroad will prove hateful to many; Yet I held this no sufficient reason why to suppress it: Wherein though some pick out matter for their derision and scorn, yet other some may meet with matter for their admiration, others for their Imitation to work on. As for you (Worthy Sir) you hereby enjoy the harvest of your earnest and often desire. Many years this writing hath line by me from the common view, the edition whereof I did therefore of purpose defer, to prevent them, (who may seem to stand at a distance far off from this form of holiness) from judging themselves preiudized hereby: But as my purpose is to further all, as much as I might, so it was not to hurt any: If any good or furtherance redound to any by this my labour, he must thank you whose importunity hath extorted it, such as it is, out of my hands. And seeing you live in the very place, where Gilpins' life and virtue was notoriously famous, and yourself have been so earnest with me for the same, this very careful desire of yours to preserve and perpetuate Gilpins' memory, is a most pregnant proof and an undeniable testimony of the ingenuity and goodness of our own mind: which worthy disposition of yours hath commanded me to dedicate this little work to your name, to stand for ever as a pledge of your Religious affection to Gilpin, and my true love unto you. So Fare you well.   

TO THE VIRTUOUS memory of Mr. BERNARD GILPIN, his Reverend Kinsman, sometimes Parson of HAUGHTON.  
Show me that man who can, one amongst ten,  
Who did as this man did, this man of men,  
Who ne'er knew Simony, that spreading Tetter,  
Which makes the bribe-swolne soul the Devil's debtor;  
Who e'er encountered with so many thieves,  
Unripped their rankling sores, and cured their grieues!  
For gifts so richly rare, for wit so quick,  
And would refuse a proffered Bishopric!  
Who made the poor his children, eased their need,  
And fed the hungry with the staff of bread!  
To blind, to lame, to sick, to sore, to poor,  
Aneye, a stay, a care, a cure, a shower,  
To right, to rear, to cure, to cheer, to water,  
And show the temper of his generous nature!  
Find me out such a man, North East, South, West,  
Unless you rake him from the Phoenix nest.  
Now trust me these rare virtues make me proud,  
Deep-stamped in this grave Patriot of my blood:  
Who though translated from the paths of men,  
And now translated by an English pen,  
Yet shall the substance of his inward shrine  
Outlive the vading period of time:  
For these sweet odours shall preserve his fame,  
So long as Kext from Kentmire takes his name.  
Dignum la●d● virum  
Musa vetat mori,  
Coelo beat.—   

 Acts. 20, 28, 29. Take heed therefore unto yourselves, and to the whole flock, whereof the holy Ghost hath made you Overseers, to feed the Church of God, which he hath purchased with that his own blood. For I know this, that after my departing shall grievous wolves enter in among you, not sparing the flock. Philip. 3. 18, 19 For many walk of whom I have told you often, and now tell you weeping, that they are the enemies of the Cross of Christ: Whose end is damnation, whose God is their belly, and whose glory is to their shame, which mind earthly things.  

The life of BERNARD GILPIN.  
BErnard Gilpin was borne at Kentmire in the County of Westmoreland in the year of our Lord 1517. of an ancient and honourable family, being the son of Edwin Gilpin, the elder brother of which Edwin was slain in the battle of Bosworth, being heir in the fifth descent of Richard Gilpin, who in the Reign of King john was enfeoffed in the Lordship of Kentmire hall by the Baron of Kendal for his singular deserts both in peace and war. This was that Richard Gilpin who slew the wild Boor, that raging in the mountains adjoining, as sometimes did that of Erimanthus, had much indammaged the Countrypeople: whence it is that the Gilpins in their Coat Arms give the Boor. The Mother of Bernard Gilpin was ‛ Margaret the Daughter of William Laton of Delama●n in Cumberland, a man of an ancient house, and a family famous in that warlike age, as from whence had sprung many right valiant Gentlemen.  
This Bernard being yet a very child gave testimony of future holiness upon this occasion. A certain begging Friar the better to dispose the hearts of the people to liberality towards him, professed himself a Zealous Preacher: how beit the Friars of those days, and that rank were but a fordid and dishonest people, some of them, yea the greatest part labouring for a form of holiness, but denying the power of it in their lives and conversations, whereas others of them retained not so much as an outside thereof. This wa●dring companion was come upon the Saturday to the house of this Gilpins Father, as purposing to preach the next morrow being the Lord's day; where he was entertained respectively enough: for at that time it was a sin unpardonable to offend the least of these locusts. The holy Friar at supper time eat like a glutton, and like a beast could not give over tossing the pot, until being overcome with drink he exposed himself a shameful spectacle to so chaste and sober a family. But in the morning as if he had been some young Saint lately dropped from heaven, he causeth the Bell to toll to the Sermon, and in the midst thereof blustering out certain good words, he presumed to grow hot against some sins of the time, and amongst the rest to thunder boldly against drunkenness. Young Gilpin who had but newly got the use of his tongue, having observed (as it seemed) the hateful baseness of the man by his oversight the night before, and now hearing the beast cry out so loud against these crimes which himself had so lately been guilty of, as he was sitting near to his Mother's lap in the Church suddenly crieth out in these words: O Mother, do you hear how this fellow dare speak against drunkenness, who was drunk himself yesternight at our house? The Mother made speed to stop the child's mouth with her hand, that he might speak no further. After this the parents of the boy perceiving his disposition by many evident testimonies were diligently careful to make him a scholar. He had a schoolfellow one Edwin Airy whom afterwards he loved entirely for his good disposition and approved honesty, but Gilpin did far excel the rest in acuteness of wit. Having therefore with great approbation passed his time in the Grammar-schoole, he is by his parents, (who had now conceived great hope of their son) sent to Oxford. At that time in Oxford both learning and Religion were in all things out of joint, and overgrown with the rust of Barbarism. And now was young Gilpi● sixteen years of age at his coming to Oxford, being in the year of our Lord 1533. Being entered in Queen's College, he profited wondrously in humane learning: He became, as almost all the good wits of that time very conversant in the writings of Erasmus. He fell very close to the study Logic and Philosophy, wherein he was observed to grow excellent, and to bear away the bell in schools. He added to this his humane learning, the singular knowledge of the Greek and Hebrew, wherein he made use of the assistance and friendship of one Neale, betwixt whom and this Gilpin was grown much familiarity by the affinity of their studies. This Neale was a Fellow of New-Colledge, and afterwards Professor of the Hebrew in Oxford. And now after some few years carefully spent in these studies Gilpin began to be so famous, and so beloved in Oxford, that there was hardly any place of preferment for a scholar, whereof the eminency of Gup●ns virtue had not rendered him worthy in the public estimation. There was then an enquiry made for men of more than ordinary learning and fame, who might make up a number of scholars in Christ-Church at that time newly begun, and honour it with the commendation of learning. Amongst these was our Gilpin one of the first elected. At that time he had not fully attained to truth and sincerity in Religion, as having been always instructed in the traditions of the Church of Rome; for in those days the most part of men did not regulate their Religion and peity by the rule of God's word, but according to the Traditions of their Fathers received from hand to hand. His mind although disposed to holiness did for a while remain in darkness, and being overclouded with prejudicial respects laboured under the burden of superstition not without some shadow of Antiquity; being more earnest against vices and corruptions of the time, then against the traditions of the Fathers. Therefore at that time Gilpin seemed a great uphoulder of the Popish Religion. He held disputation publicly against john H●●per, who was afterwards Bishop of Worcester, and at the last a glorious Martyr of Christ. After the death of King Henry the eight, when Edward the sixth was King, Peter Martyr induced by the piety and Munificence of such a Prince read the Divinity Lecture in Oxford. Against whom the Sophisters endeavoured to make opposition, Chedsey, Weston, and Morgan, who desired also to draw in Gilpin on their side, that by his advice and help they might the more distract Peter Martyr: and the matter at last came to this push, that Gilpin was produced to hold disputation against the positions of Peter Martyr. Upon occasion of which dispute Gilpin to the end that he might defend his cause in hand adventureth more diligently then ordinary to examine the Scriptures and the ancient Fathers: And by how much the more he studied to defend the cause which he had undertaken, so much the less confidence he began to have therein, because he supposed that he ought to stand for the truth, which he strove with all his might to discover and find out. But whiles he was zealously searching for the truth, he began by little and little to have a sight of his own errors. Whereupon Peter Martyr was wont often to say, that he was not much troubled either for Weston, Morgan, or the like, but as for that Gilpin, (saith he) I am very much moved concerning him, for he doth and speaketh all things with an upright heart. The rest seem to me to be men, who regard their bellies most of all, and being most unconstant are carried away as it were with every blast of ambition and covetousness. But Gilpin re●ting firmly upon gravity of manners, and the testimony of a most laudable life seemeth to honour with his own goodness the cause which he undertaketh. Yea, and he did often pray unto God that he would be pleased at the last to convert unto his truth the heart of Gilpin, being so inclinable to all honest desires. And doubtless God heard the prayer of Peter Martyr: For from that time forward Gilpin drew near to the knowledge of the truth, not upon a sudden, but as himself confessed by degrees.  
Peter Martyr had much illuminated Oxford with the truth of Divinity and the knowledge of humane learning. Whereupon Gilpin resolved more earnestly to apply himself both by study and prayer to search out the truth. To which purpose he determined to put in writing the disputation which had been betwixt himself and Hooper. But in the expressing and vnfoulding of the said controversy, while he dwelled for a time upon an accurate examination of the points which he had resolved to confute, whiles he searcheth them to the bottom, and regulateth the institutions of the Church to the authority of Scripture, without which he well understood that there could be no true Church at all, he felt himself easily overcome, and was not sorry to be overcome by the truth. Those draughts being found amongst Mr. Gilpi●s writings reserved in his private desk do testify his ingenuous and free confession, together with the power of the truth and Gods great mercy in his conversion. Whiles he curiously pryeth into the Popish religion, he was enforced to acknowledge that very many errors were crept into the Church which hinder and obscure the matter of our salvation, insomuch that they are no small offence to as many as hunger and thirst after righteousness and the knowledge of the truth. He discovered many corruptious and changes of sound doctrine, he found not so much as word touching seven Sacraments before Peter Lombard: and that the use of the Supper was delivered under one kind only contrary to express Scriptures: that Transubstantiation was a devise of the Schoolmen: that the doctrine of the work wrought called Opu● operatum▪ was newly risen: that the Mass was turned from a Sacrament to a Sacrifice: that in the Church wherein all things were ordained for the edification of the people, all things were now done, to the non-edification of them: that the adoration of Images was instituted against the express commandment of God. Demurring for a while as distracted with these thoughts, behold the rule of faith lately changed in the Council of Tr●n● utterly astonished him. For he had observed out of the ancient Writers as well as out of the later ones, Lu●. ba●d, Scotus, Aq●inas, and the rest, that the rule of faith was to be drawn only from the holy Scriptures, but in the Council of Trent he beheld humane traditions made equal wi●h the Scriptures. And seeing he understood these traditions to be nothing else but peevish and cross expositions of the holy Scriptures, devised by the Bishops of Rome, and thrust in among the Decretal Epistles, as also that the said Decretal Epistles were merely feigned and suppositions, as is confirmed by the testimonies of many learned men, and indeed by the confession of the very Papists themselves is acknowledged to be out of all doubt, this so great a confusion of things being risen in the Church in these latter ages enforced Gilpin now earnestly desiring nothing so much as true piety, to begin to doubt whether the Pope might not be that Antichrist foretold in the Scriptures, and the Popish Church plainly Antichristian. For what is it to exalt and set up himself against all that is called God, insomuch that he sitteth as God in the Temple of God, behaving himself as God, if not this, that the Pope is head of the universal Church, the Lord, the Monarch, and as it were the God thereof? And that the word of the Pope is defended as the very word of God? For how shall not he whose word is as the word of God, be as God, opposing himself to God, and showing himself that he is God? But this word is called the unwritten word, or verbum non script●m▪ is drawn out of the stinking puddles of the Decretals, that is to say, patched up together out of false and fictitious writings. And this word which is in no respect worthy to be compared with the word of an honest man, is the unwritten word of God, and to be entertained with the same pious affection as are the holy Scriptures. Can Antichrist when he shall come, (if yet there be another to come) more grievously wrong and blaspheme Christ and the holy Scriptures than the Pope doth? And here at the last he demurred as in an exceeding great doubt. For who would have thought the Pope to be Antichrist? who durst to speak such a word before Martin Luther? Therefore, thus he argued with himself: If the Pope be Antichrist, I fee not only probable but even necessary causes to depart from the Popish Church. But if the Pope be not Antichrist, I see no sufficient ground for such a departure. It is not lawful to make a separation from the Church: but we are not only enjoined to come out of the Church of Antichrist, but we see the fearful anger of the living God, and hear his dreadful threats thundered out against those who shall remain in Babilo● that Synagogue of Antichrist. Forasmuch as a voice from heaven speaketh unto us. Apoc. 18 Come out of her my people: & it is denounced that they shall receive of her plagues whosoever have been partakers of her sins. Here therefore he stoppeda while: because except the Pope were manifestly detected to be Antichrist, he did not understand how he might separate from the Church: and therefore he applied himself by searching, reading, prayer and meditation, to be resolved of this truth. He observed out of the Ancient Fathers, Tertullian, I●rom, Ambrose, Augustine, chrysostom, Cyrill, and others, that passage wherein Antichrist is described, 2 Thess. 2▪ 7. He which now withhouldeth shall let till he be taken out of the way, to be so interpreted as understood of the Roman Empire, that the Roman Empire which now held pre-eminence should keep possession until Antichrist shall come, who shall possess the seat of the Roman Empire. And moreover whereas it is said in the same place, that Christ shall not come again except there be a departure first, he observed this thing to be fulfilled likewise. He perceived first a very main departure of the Church of Rome from her primitive simplicity and truth. And secondly, a second departure or separation no less manifest, to wit, of that of the Reformed Churches from the Church of Rome.  
Mr. Gilpin would often say that the Churches of the Protestants were not able to give any firm and solid reason of their separation besides this, to wit, that the Pope is Antichrist. For he understood that a departure was commanded from the Church of Antichrist by that heavenly injunction, Go out of her my people, and be not partakers of her sins, lest ye receive also of her plagues, Revel. 18. 4. In which place S. lohn wisely foretelleth that the people of God should be called out of the Synagogue of Antichrist: that here was no third thing to be thought upon: that either the Church of Christ was not to be forsaken, or the Pope to be accounted Antichrist, out of whose Church the Church of God is called forth by an heavenly voice & command. And now event which is the most undoubted interpreter of Prophecies hath proved all these things unto us: We have seen already many Ages ago that Kingdom taken away, which ruled over all in the time of the Apostles: and in the room thereof an Ecclesiastical Kingdom erected, such an one as was never seen in the Church in former Ages. We have beheld the fearful departure of the Church of Rome from the ancient purity and integrity of the Church. We have observed and do daily the people called as it were by a voice from heaven, coming out of Babylon, that is to say, out of the Church of Antichrist. Our eyes have seen these things fulfilled, which we have read of as being foretold so many Ages ago. These things moved the mind of Mr. Gilpin wonderfully to follow that Church which was showed unto him out of the word of God. The Church of Rome kept the rule of faith entire, until that rule was changed and altered by the Council of Trent. And from that time it seemed unto him a matter of necessity to come out of the Church of Rome, that so that Church which is true & called out of from thence might follow the word of God. For this calling out seemed to point out unto us a peculiar estate of the Church: so Abraham was called out from Vr of the Caldees, the people of Israel were called out of Egypt, the jews out of Babylon, after the captivity of seventy years: and at the last after the self same manner the Reformed Church called out of Mystical Babylon▪ or the Church of Rome. These things were seen to have been brought to pass by the wonderful providence and powerful hand of God. Therefore he saw that there was a necessity of coming out of her, and that that Apostatical Church was to be forsaken. But he did not these things violently, but by degrees. In the mean while Cuthbert Tonstall Bishop of Durham had a purpose to send Mr. Gilpin to visit the Churches in forrane parts allowing him means for his travel. This Tonstall was Mr. Gilpins' Mother's uncle. But before he undertook his voyage being commanded to Court he preached before King Edward the sixth touching Sacrilege; which Sermon is public in print. Then he applied his mind to think upon his travel. Now so it was that he had a Parsonage bestowed upon him by the care of his friends. This Parsonage Bishop Tonstall persuaded Mr. Gilpin to keep still in his hands, as means to furnish him with allowance for his travel, that he might demean himself more honestly and more Gentleman like therein. But Gilpin who had retained this Parsonage but a short while, before he would betake himself to travel called unto him a friend, whom he knew to be religious, and a scholar, and one that would not be idle in the function of the holy Ministry, and unto him he made a resignation of his place but a little while before bestowed upon himself. Which thing when Bishop To●stat came to know of, he chid with Mr. Gilpin: And, I (saith he) have a care of thee, and thou reiectest it as impertinent. But I tell thee this before hand, that by these courses thou wilt die a beggar. At the first Gilpin indeavoureth with fair language to appease the mind of the Bishop his especial good friend. Afterwards he added that he had left his Parsonage upon necessity, because he could not keep it in his hands with any peace of conscience. But (saith the Bishop) thou mayst hold it with a dispensation, and in this case thou shalt be dispensed withal. But (answered Gilpin) the Devil will not be restrained by any bonds of dispensation from labouring in mine absence the destruction of my people committed to my charge: And I fear that when God sha●l call me to an account of my stewardship, it will not se●ue my turn to make answer that I was dispensed withal whiles the Devil made havoc of my flock. At which answer the Bishop seemed offended: but having hereby made trial of the sincerity of Gilpins' heart he began to use him with more and more respect. Yet he did often threaten him, as Mr. Gilpin was wont to say, that Father's soul, (a familiar word of the Bishops) Gilp●n would die a beggar. In his travel abroad he first visited his brother George at Mechlin, who had written unto him to that purpose: then he lived for a while at Louvain, and at Antwerp, and at Paris. After he was departed out of England, he received letters a second time from his brother George, whereby he was directed to meet him at Mec●lin, because he had something to deliver unto him by word of mouth that he could not conveniently write. After they were met, Mr. Gilpin understood the reasons why he had sent for him thither to be nothing else, but only to persuade him to take upon him a Parsonage, which might afford him maintenance while he should visit foreign Universities. Gilpin now seemed to himself to be in a straight, for he knew that he had lately given the Bishop distaste upon this occasion, and he perceived that in this matter his brother was put upon him by the Bishop. At last therefore he writes back to the Bishop in these words.  
The Letter followeth.  
MY very honourable good Lord, and most worthy ever to be honoured by me: I thought it not fitting ●o conceal from your Lordship that my brother hath written unto me of late, that setting all excuse aside I should give him meeting at Mechlin, because he had something to say unto me touching very necessary affairs which could not be dispatched by letters. When we were met, I understood that ●his business with me was nothing else but to try me, if I would take upon me a living, whiles myself in the mean while should remain a student in the University. But had I known before hand that this was the cause of my journey I should not have thought it necessary to have interrupted my studies with going to Mechli●. For now I confess I have discussed it with all the learned, but especially with the holy Prophets, and with the most ancient and most godly writers since the time of our Saviour: so that I am fully resolved so long as I live never to burden my conscience in this case, nor to keep a living in mine own charge with condition to live from it. He answered that your Lordship had written unto him that you would gladly confer a living upon me, and that your Lordship and mine other friends, whereof himself was one, judged me too scrupulous in conscience in this case. Whereunto I answered, if I be somewhat too scrupulous, (as I think I am not) yet it is a matter of that nature, that I had rather be little too strict, then to give my conscience too much scope herein. Forasmuch as I am once persuaded, that I shall not offend God in refusing such a living as I cannot be resident upon: so long as I do not censure evil of other men, as I hope I never shall: yea I pray daily for all those who have the care of souls, that they may be able so to give an account unto God of the charge committed unto them as may be most for the glory of God and the edification of his Church. He told me also that your Lordship would not confer any charge upon me but such a one as should be served as well, or perhaps better in mine absence, then if I were there myself. Whereunto I answered, that I doubted not but that there might be in England a great number of men far more able than myself to take the cure upon them: And therefore I wish above all things that they may retain both the place and the benefit, and feed both the bodies and the souls as I suppose all good Pastors bound in conscience to do. But for mine own part I cannot in conscience reap benefit from that place, wherein another man bestoweth his endeavours. For though any other should teach and preach for me as constantly and industriously as ever Saint Augustine did, yet cannot I think myself discharged by another man's painstaking. But if yet I should be persuaded thus to offer violence to my conscience upon condition to remain either here or in any other University, my disquiet of conscience would never permit me to profit in my study. At his present, I praise God, I have obtained a comfortable privacy in my studies near to a Monastery of Minorite Friars, so that I have opportunity to make use of an excellent library of theirs so often as I will. I frequent the company of the best scholars, nor was I ever more desirous to learn. Hereupon being given to understand by my brother George, that your Lordship had some thoughts of bestowing a living upon me, which thing might interrupt the course of my studies, I emboldened myself (upon the experience which I have had of your Lordship's love towards me) to unlock the closet of my thoughts unto your goodness freely: Humbly beseeching that your Lordship will be pleased to permit me to live free from a Pastoral charge, that I may the more quietly apply my studies. And forasmuch as I understand that your Lordship is solicitous, how I should be provided for, if God should call your Lordship, (who are now well in years) out of this world, I beseech you that the thought thereof may no more disturb you. For if I shall be brought low in means, I doubt not but in short time to be able to obtain some lecture either in this University or else where, where I shall not lose my time, a course which is much more pleasing unto me, then if I should take upon me a Pastoral charge. I beseech Christ preserve your Lordship.  
From Louvain the 22. of November, 1554.  Thus far Mr. Gilpins' Letter. 
Now tell me, what one of all those gaping rooks of our time hath endeavoured with more art to acquire the● this man to decline a spiritual living? At his first coming over into the parts beyond the Seas, he resided for the most part at Louvain, afterwards he went to Paris. Whiles he abode in Paris, Bishop Tonstall was careful that a certain book which himself had written at that time concerning the truth of the body & blood of Christ our Lord in the Eucharist should be published in print by the diligence of Mr. Gilpin. I am not ignorant that some Papists have objected to Mr. Gilpin, that the same work was by him corrupted contrary to the mind of the Author. And even in mine hearing, when after these things I was a scholar under him at Houghto●, Francis Wickliff: gave notice unto Mr. Gilpin what was mattered touching the corrupt edition: Whereupon he having disproved that suspicion by many reasons, at the last produced the letters of Cuthbert Tonstall, wherein the Bishop gave him very great thanks, because he had been both faithful and diligent in the edition of that work. At Paris Mr. Gilpin resided in the house of Vascos●nus, and conversed with learned men. And whiles he asked the opinions of learned men concerning these things which had troubled his mind, for the most part they answered him in that manner, not as if they regarded the pacification of conscience, which he aimed at only, but the establishment of the traditions of the Church. At that time was Neal● at Paris also, with whom Mr. Gilpin dealt somewhat freely, that both of them together might join in pursuit of the truth. They had by chance some discourse touching the adoration of Images; Mr. Gilpin was much troubled hearing the Papists condemn Idolatry in their discourses and yet permitting to the people every where the adoration of Images. He demanded with what comfort of conscience any man could bow himself before an Image: and is not this (saith he) the idolatry forbidden in the second commandment? This did Mr. Gilpin demand of him the rather, because he observed the man a little too much addicted to the Popish opinions. Neale answered with that usual distinction of an Idol and an Image. That the Images of the Saints were not Idols, and so consequently that the worshipping of their Images was no idolatry. Mr. Gilpin replied, there is no mention of an Idol in the second commandment, but there is a prohibition of bowing before a graved Image, or the likeness of any thing that is in heaven above, or in the earth beneath, or in the waters under the earth: wheresoever they are, we are forbidden to fall down before the likeness of them. And what (saith he) maketh an Idol. The workman frameth the similitude of some man, the graven Image is not an Idol, but adoration maketh it an Idol. Therefore the Apostle saith, that an Idol is nothing, because there is but one God. In the opinion of the person adoring it seemeth to be something, but that which the fancy of the party adoring apprehendeth is indced nothing in the world: therefore Idolatry is when the worship due to God only is bestowed upon the creature. But whosoever in prayer boweth down himself before any creature whatsoever giveth unto the creature the worship due to God alone. The commandment of God forbiddeth us to make unto ourselves any graven Image, or the likeness of any creature. But they make it unto themselves who make it for a religious use. We are also forbidden to bow down ourselves before any such creature; for those who do so, do serve and worship the same creature. And in this place that distinction of La●r●a and Doul●● is frivolous, which are words of the same signification, forasmuch as that distinction is taken away by the express words of the commandment; Thou shalt not bow down unto them. So that bowing down unto them is forbidden, notwithstanding we see it practised every where. To this Neale answereth, that the ordinances of the Church are not to be altered without mature deliberation, Gilpin replieth that it is not in ourpower to alter the ordinances of the Church. But seeing I cannot alter things already determined in the Church, it remaineth that I especially endeavour to charge myself, and to draw near to the sincere worship of God, as his grace shall enable me.  
Mr. Gilpin did often profess that when he lived amongst the Papists, he had observed many things which had estranged his heart from that religion. He understood that a man's chiefest comfort consisted in the Article of justification, which Article he saw so obscured in Popery that true consolation was utterly excluded. Therefore he did with all diligence inquire into the Scriptures and writings of the Fachers. Returning into England in the days of Queen Mary he beheld to his great grief the Church oppressed with blood and fire: and being placed by Bishop Tonstall in the Rectory of Essingdon, he began to preach the word of God, and sharply to tax some vices which then reigned in the Church. He propounded the doctrine of salvation plainly and sound, which thing procured him many back friends, especially among the Clergy whose faults he had touched to the quick. There was at that time among the Clergy of the Bishopric of Durham one Tonstall Parson of a Church in that Diocese. This man was very hot against Gilpin, & accused him often to the Bishop as an heretic, and one that deserved to be burnt as other heretics were. But the Bishop could not endure to shed blood, and therefore dealt mildly with him, and preserved him from the projects of his enemies. I have heard Anthony Carleton relate, (and he at that time lived in the Bishop's house) that the Bishop's Chaplains at a certain time had some discourse with Gilpin about Luther: and that one of them had asked him what he thought of Luther and his writings. Gilpin confessed that had not read the writings of Luther, I propounded unto myself, (said he) this course; first of all to search the Scriptures diligently, and to be acquainted with the expositions of the Fathers upon them. As for the writings of the neoterics, I have only looked upon them: howbeit I refuse them not when and where they agree with the Ancients. One of them commended Mr. Gilpins' resolution, and said, it would be well with the Church, if all men would duly respect the writings of the Fathers: for then the upstart opinions of late writers would not so much disturb the Church, such as are of these of Luther. But Gilpin answered, if neoterics and late writers produce the opinions of the ancient Fathers, the novelty of the men is not to be disdained, but the antiquity of the doctrine is to be reverenced.  
They hereupon subtly draw on Gilpin into a disputation concerning the Sacrament of the Altar; propounding therein two questions, the one concerning the Real presence, the other concerning Transubstantiation. Touching the Real presence Gilpin confessed that he had no very strong Argument wherewith in his judgement he might oppose the Real presence: For I suppose, (saith he) that therein lieth hid a great mystery, such a one as is above my capacity, rather to be adored then disputed upon. They asked then what he thought of Transubstantiation? He answered that there was no necessity why we should believe those things which have no solid foundation in the word of God. Do you not then believe, (said they) as the Church believes? Gilpin replieth that the Church had not always held that as an Article of faith: I am (saith he) of the Catholic faith, and the Catholic faith changeth not. But in this point I see alterations▪ such as the Catholic faith is not capable of. They demanded what alterations in faith he had observed touching the Sacrament of the Altar. He replieth: I do not find that in the Church in former ages, there was any thing spoken, or written about Transubstantiation. Peter Lombard was either the first, or at least one of the first that brought in the alteration of the ancient faith. And what do you yourselves think? Is the bread in Transubstantiation converted into the flesh and blood of Christ? They answer, that they believe so absolutely. But, saith Gilpin, Peter Lombard who was the first man that made an alteration of the faith of our forefathers in this point, himself did not believe as you do. For in his fourth book the eleventh distinction, F. thus he hath it: there is no Transubstantiation but of bread into flesh, and wine into blood. And if that be true, then doubtless it follows consequently, that in the Transubstantiation of the bread there is no blood. And now (saith he) how will you reconcile these things. They stood at a stand, as having nothing to answer, because the words of Lombard plainly deny that in the Transubstantiated bread can be any blood, or in the wine his flesh. Whom when Gilpin had observed to stagger in this point, take notice now (saith he) of the immutabillity of the Catholic faith: we see the alteration of Transubstantiation. For when Lombard had broached this doctrine, that there was a kind of change, he would have it none otherwise understood then thus: that the bread only should be changed into flesh, and the wine only into blood.  
Nor did men at that time dream of any other conversion in the Sacrament of the Altar, until the fiction of concomitancy was broached by Thomas Aquinas. He was a man that understood well the difficulty of this point, and therefore he underpropped it with Concomitancy, that forsooth by reason of Concomitancy there is both flesh and blood in the Transubstantiated bread. But these are the inventions of later men, whereas the Catholic religion abhorreth invented, alterations in matters of faith. While they were holding this disputation without speakeing aloud, because they were close at the Bishop's back, who at that time sat before the fire, for it was in the winter season: the Bishop leaned his chair somewhat backwards, and hearkened what they said. And when they had done speaking, the Bishop turning to his Chaplains, useth these words. Father's soul, let him alone, for he hath more learning than you all.  
Whilst he lived at Essingdon, he preached the word of God constantly to the people. Now so it was that the Archdeaconry of Durham was annexed to the rectory of Essingdon. Thereupon Mr. Gilpin for a time supplied both places. And when by chance he had notice that the Bishop was so careful of him, that he had a purpose to increase his maintenance, he made answer that he was provided for sufficiently and even somewhat more than sufficient already; and desired the Bishop that he might have his good leave to resign either the Rectory or the Archdeacon's place: for (saith he) the one of them will be sufficient, me thinks both together are to heavy a burden for me. Hereat ihe Bishop seemed to be moved with him, and said: have nor I told thee before hand, that thou wilt die a beggar? I found them both combined; and combined I will leave them.  
Not long after he bestowed upon Mr. Gilpin the Rectory of Houghton being a very large Parish containing 14. Villages with very large possessions, Mr. Gilpin being settled at Houghton persevered most constantly in the duties of the Ministry, and repaired the decayed houses. His Parsonage house seemed like a Bishop's Palace; nor shall a man lightly find one Bishops house amongst many worthy to be compared to this house of his, if he consider the variety of buildings, and neatness of the s●ituation.  
Whiles Mr. Gilpin lived at Houghton he was touched with a care not of that parish only but of many more: for he saw and was much grieved to see many congregations through the distaste of impropriation, as they call it, to be even dispersed and destitute of Pastors. For the parsonages being in the possession of Laymen, there remained not maintenance for a Minister, for the Laymen sought out for poor base priests, who were only able to read prayers to the people morning and evening: nor did the one use to require, or they take care to perform any more. This desolation of the Church, and ignorance of the common sort much troubled the holy heart of Mr. Gilpin. He therefore purposed with himself, with as much care and vigilancy as he could, not to make up the breach wholly (for that was a thing impossible for him to do) but to do this own duty to the best of his endeavours, that the truth may be propagated, and God glorified. This desolation of the congregations appeared most of all in Northumb●rland and the ports adjoining which are called Riddesdale, and Tindale. For in these quarters, especially, in that time, the word of God was never heard of to be preached amongst them but by Mr. Gilpins' Ministry. So that once a year it was his custom to make a journey amongst them. For which purpose he would usually take the opportunity of Christmas Holidays, when in respect of frost and snow other men were loath to travel. That time he liked best, because then there came many Holidays together, & the people would more usually assemble upon the Holidays, whereas at other times they neither would come together so easily, nor so often.  
He got himself a great deal of estimation and respect amongst this people both by preaching and by distribution of moneys to the poor in his journey, being sometimes benighted before he was well aware, and forced to lodge in the snow all night. In which extremity, he commanded William Airy, who for the most part attended upon him to tro●t the horses up and down and neither to permit them nor himself to stand still, whiles he himself in the mean while did bestir himself sometimes running, sometimes walking, as not able to stand still for could. At home his daily care was for the discharge of his Ministry and provision for the poor. Now there was in this town of Houghton a street of poor people: for their relief he took order that every Thursday through the year a very great pot should be providedfull of boiled meat purposely for the poor. And not at Houghton alone, but even wheresoever opportunity presented itself, he was careful for the poor, insomuch that by the common consent of the Country people he was styled a father of the poor.  
Upon a time as he was returning home upon a journey there was a certain husbandman at plough, in whose team of horse one upon a sudden fell down, whether with being overwrought or upon some disease it is uncertain. The husbandman and those who were with him did their best to raise the horse again with all the strength they had: but it was in vain, for the horse was dead. Mr. Gilpin passing by accidentally stayed to observe the issue of the matter: And perceiving that the horse could not be raised again, and that the husbandman was exceedingly grieved for the death of his beast, and that he cried out he was even undone by that miserable accident, he commanded his man to alight from the horse he had under him, and patiently to carry the saddle and bridle to the next town, and to give to the poor man the horse whereon he road. The husbandman thereupon cried out, Alas Sir, I am not able to pay you the price of so good an horse. Be of good cheer (saith Mr. Gilpin) thou shalt never pay me for him till I demand it, in the mean while go on with thy work. Yea, and many a time as he travailed was he accustomed thus to help poor men. When at any time he chanced to meet any naked poor, he would put off part of his apparel to cover their nakedness: and at his table he usually fed many poor persons. When that blessed Queen Elizabeth of never dying memory after the direful times of her sister's Reign came to the Crown, the scarcity of learned men who were able to preach the word of God, moved not only many religious persons, but even the very Counsel of the Queen to seek a salve for this sore by all the means they could. Mr. Gilpin observing the laudable endeavours of many in relieving the Churches want in this kind, himself also was exceeding studious to do what good he could possibly in his own charge. Whereupon he began to conceive thoughts of a seminary of good literature▪ or a Grammar-school; and builded a school allowing maintenance for a Master and Vsher. Himself also made choice out of the same school of such as he liked●best to be privately instructed by himself. Which resolution of his much benefited Mr. Gilpnn himself, and the whole Church of God all England over. For in that school of his were bred very many learned men, who very much graced the Church by their endeavours and uprightness of life. There was great resort of scholars to that school of his, many of whom were boarded in the town, and many at Mr. Gilpins' house. He boarded the sons of Knights and Esquires at a small rate: those who were of his kindred were free: yea and he had many poor, men's sons upon whom he bestowed both meat, and drink, and cloth, and education. Whereby Mr. Gilpins school was every where spoken of to his credit, but himself much more. Out of this school of his he sent daily very many to both Universities, unto diverse whereof he also allowed maintenance in the University at his own cost and charges. And now while he was wholly taken up with these employments, glory and reputation which followeth him that flieth from it, and flieth from him that had pursued it, had made the name of Mr. Gilpin most renowned, insomuch that he was was not only honoured among the Fathers of the Clergy, but amongst all the Nobility of the Kingdom. Amongst the Nobles at Court the Earl of Bedford was one that marvellously respected Mr. Gilpin. This Earl earnestly desired of the Queen that the Bishopric of Carlisle, at that time vacant upon the death of Owen Oglethorpe, should be bestowed upon Mr. Gilpin, and obtained it. And thereupon the Earl dispatcheth his letters to Mr. Gilpin to gather that power of election which is termed Congedes●ier. Mr. Gilpin receiving the letters together with the Congedeslier, sent back a messenger out of hand with letters to the Earl, wherein having returned all hearty tha●kes to the Queen, and to the Earl, he humbly beseecheth the Earl to be mediator to the Queen for him, and to get him excused as concerning the Bishopric, alleging that he was best acquainted with his own strength, and conscious to himself of his own insufficiency for the discharge of so great a place: if in the meanwhile he could be any other way serviceable to the Church, he would be diligent and careful in some meaner employment. At that time was Edwin Sands Bishop of Worcester, a man venerable for his approved wisdom, learning, and holiness of life, who was afterwards translated to London, and thence to York. This Bishop happened to be in London at the same time when the Earl of Bedford was busy about the preferring of Mr. Gilpin to a Bishopric: and he, either by the persuasion of the Earl, or out of the entire love which he bore to Mr. Gilpin, (for he was near a kin unto him) dispatched letters to Mr. Gilpin, whereby he persuadeth him to accept of, and to keep the Bishopric thus offered. The Letter was found amongst Mr. Gilpins' papers in these words.  
MY much and worthily respected Cousin, having regard unto the good of the Church of Christ, rather than to your ease, I have by all the good means I could been careful to have this charge imposed upon you, which may be both an honour to yourself, and a benefit to the Church of Christ. My true report concerning you hath so prevailed with the Queen's Majesty that she hath nominated you Bishop of Carlisle. I am not ignorant that your inclination rather delighteth in the peaceable tranquillity of a private life. But if you look upon the estate of the Church of England with a respective eye, you cannot with a good conscience refuse this charge imposed upon you: so m●ch the less, because it is in such a place, as wherein no man is found fitter than yourself to deserve well of the Church. In which respect I charge you before God, and as you shall answer to God herein, that setting all excuses aside, you refuse not to assist your Country, and to do service to the Church of God to the uttermost of your power. In the mean while I give you to understand that the said Bishopric is to be left unto you untouched, neither shall any thing of it be diminished (as in some others it is a custom) but bou shall receive the Bishopric entire as Doctor Oglethorp hath left it. Wherefore exhorting and charging you to be obedient to Gods call herein, and not to neglect the duty of your own calling, I commend both yourself and the whole business of the divine providence. In haste▪ At London, the fourth day of April, 1560.  
Your kinsman and Brother, EDWIN WORCESTER.  
Mr. Gilpin returneth thanks to the reverend Bishop his kinsman. But as touching the Bishopric, he desireth to be excused, and in that resolution he became unmovable. And many there were who thought him blameworthy because he had so stiffly rejected a Bishopric. But amongst some Mr. Gilpins reputation seemed to grow greater by this refusal, then if he had accepted the offer. I remember that I myself have heard him discoursing amongst his friends touching this occasion, when one of them asked him upon what grounds he had so stiffly refused a Bishopric: to whom he made answer, that he refused not so much the Bishopric, as the inconvenience of the place. For (saith he) if I had been chosen in this kind to any Bishopric elsewhere I would not have refused it, but in that place I have been willing to avoid the trouble of it, seeing I had there many of my friends and kindred, at whom I must connive in many things, not without hurt to myself, or else deny them many things not without offence to them: which difficulties I have easily avoided by refusal of that Bishopric.  
Upon this refusal of Mr. Gilpins, Doctor john B●st a learned and religious man was made choice of for the place: but whether he had it conferred upon him upon the same terms at it was proffered to Mr. Gilpin, that no diminution should be made of any part thereof that I know not. Not long after this his refusal of that Bishopric, he was set upon by another request, to wit, that he would take upon him to be Provost of Queen's College, in Oxford, whereunto he was chosen, or at least he would be pleased to nominate some other for that place who might be a good and fitting man for the same. There was a letter written unto him by Thomas Francies to this purpose.  
COmmendations premised etc. Seeing I have a resolution to relinquish this place which I now hold in Queen's College in Oxford, being heartily desirous that some virtuous, godly, and learned man, and such a one as by the statutes of the College shall be fit, may be chosen to the place, I have thought good once more to to make a tender of the same unto you: which if it shall please you to accept I shall be ready upon the receipt of your letters to that purpose to advertise the Fellows thereof, whom I know to be marvailously well inclined towards you. But if so great a trouble with so small a maintenance (for so I may truly term this burden) do no● give you content, I entreat your advice and direction as a friend to nominate me a man unto whom I may resign the place, such an one as yourself shall know to be a man fitting; and one who may and aught to be chosen. I shall gladly be directed by you so scone as I shall understand your mind by your letters▪ which I pray you be careful to send me wi●h all convenient speed. In haste from Oxford the 17 of December. 1561.  
What answer Mr. Gilpin returned to this message, I do not find, but it is manifest that he refused the offer of that preferment. For against all the entreaties of friends in these kinds, he remained constant and unmovable, as the Poet spoke of King Latinus.  
ay I'll vel●t pelagi rupes immo●ar●sistit. 
Moved no more  
Than Rock on shore.   
ANd all this while Mr. Gilpin seemed even to supply the place of a Bishop by preaching, by taking care of the poor, and by making provision for the necessity of other Churches, by erecting of schools, and by accommodating men learned and fitting for the holy function of the Ministry. As for Mr. Gilpins' house it was like unto a very Monastery, if a man consider a Monastery such as were those in the times or Saint Augustine, but not such as these latter ages have brought forth.  
William Lord Cecil Baron of Burghtey principal Secretary to the Queen being sent into Scotland about affairs of State, in his return homewards being drawn with the fame of Mr. Gilpin, came to Houghton, and visited him. Mr. Gilpin▪ entertaineth him with all respects and due rites of hospitality. When the Lord Ceci●● had well observed Mr. Gilpin, and had approved the extraordinary courtesy of the man, and had taken notice of such diligence, and abundance of all things with so complete service in the entertainment of so great a stranger, and so unlooked for a guest, being now ready to depart thence, he spoke on this wise: that he had heard much be the report of others touching Mr. Gilpin, but what he now had seen and tried was much more than that which he had formerly heard. Therefore speaking in very friendly manner to Mr. Gilpin, he said: Sir, if you have any occasion or suit at Court or before the Counsel, I pray you to make use of me as a mediator for you.  
The honourable Baron being returned towards Durham, when he came to the hill called Rai●ton hill, reflecting his eye upon the whole champion Country which he had now passed, he looked back very earnestly both upon Mr. Gilpins' house and the situation thereof; and useth these words, I do not blame this man (saith he) for refusing a Bishopric: for what doth he want that a Bishopric could more enrich him withal? Besides that he is free from the greater weight of cares. Mr. Gilpin did not omit to visit the people of Ridsdale and Tindal● once every year. Amongst whom he was esteemed a very Prophet, and little less than adored by that half barbarous & rustic people. It happened by chance that whiles Mr. Gilpin preached amongst them, a certain goodfellow had stolen away Mr. Gilpins' horses: upon the missing whereof, there is Hue and Cry raised through the Country, that Mr. Gilpins' horses were stolen, and must be searched for with all possible diligence. The fellow who had stolen them so soon as he hear that they were Mr. Gilpins' horses (for he knew not whose they were when he took them away) was in great fear and trembling. The theft did not much trouble his conscience, but when he heard the name of Mr. Gilpin, it cast him into trouble and distraction of heart. Therefore in much trembling, and with all the speed he could he brought back Mr. Gilpins' horses, and humly craved the pardon and benediction of Father Gilpin: and protested that after it came to his knowledge that they were Mr. Gilpins' horses he was afraid to be thrust down quick into Hell, if he should do him any wrong.  
Upon a time when Mr. Gilpin was in these parts at a town called Rothbury, there was a pestilent faction amongst some of them who were wont to resort to that Church. The men being bloodily minded practised a bloody manner of revenge, termed by them Deadly-feod. If the faction on the one side did perhaps come to the Church, the other side kept away because they were not accustomed to meet to gether without bloodshed. Now so it was that when Mr. Gilpin was in the pulpit in that Church, both parties came to Church in the presence of Mr. Gilpin; and both of them stood, the one of them in the upper part of the Church, or Chancel, the other in the body thereof armed with swords and javelins in their hands. Mr. Gilpin somewhat moved with this unaccustomed spectacle goeth on nevertheless in his Sermon: and now a second time their weapons make a clashing sound, and the one side drew nearer to the other, so that they were in danger to fall to blows in the midst of the Church. Hereupon Mr. Gilpin cometh down from the pulpit, and stepping to the ringleaders of either faction, first of all he appeased the tumult. Next, he labowreth to establish peace betwixt them, but he could not prevail in that: only they promised to keep the peace unbroken so long as Mr. Gilpin should remain in the Church. Mr. Gilpin seeing he could not utterly extinguish the hatred which was now inveterate betwixt them, desired them that yet they would forbear hostility so long as he should remain in those quarters: and this they consented unto. Mr. Gilpin thereupon goeth up into the pulpit again (for he had not made an end of his Sermon) and spent the rest of the allotted time which remained in in disgracing that barbarous and bloody custom of theirs, and (if it were possible) in the utter banishing of it for ever. So often as Mr. Gilpin came into those parts afterwards, if any man amongst them stood in fear of a deadly foe, he resorted usually where Mr. Gilpin was, supposing himself more safe in his company, then if he went with a guard.  
Upon a certain Lordsday Mr. Gilpin coming to a Church in those parts before the people were assembled, and walking up and down therein espied a glove hanged on high in the Church. Whereupon he demanded of the Sexton, what should be the meaning thereof, and wherefore it hanged in that place? The Sexton maketh answer that it was a glove of one of the Parish who had hanged it up there as a challenge to his enemy, signifiing thereby that he was ready to enter combat with his enemy hand to hand, or with any one else who should dare to take down that challenge. Mr. Gilpin requested the Sexton by some means or other to take it down. Not I Sir, (replied the Sexton) I dare do no such thing. But (said Mr. Gilpin) if thou wilt but bring me hither a long staff, I will take it down myself: and so when a long stafe was brought, Mr. Gilpin took down the glove and put it up in his bosom. By and by came the people to Church in abundance, and Mr. Gilpin when he saw his time went up into the pulpit: In his Sermon ●e took occasion to reprove these in huma●e challenges, and rebuked them sharply for that custom which they had of making challenges by the hanging up of a glove, I hear saith he, that there is one amongst you, who even in this sacred place hath hanged up a glove to this purpose, & threateneth to enter into combat with whosoever shall take it down. Behold, I have taken it down myself, and at that word plucking out the glove showed it openly, and then instructed them how unbeseeming those barbarous conditions were for any man that professed himself a Christian, and so laboured to persuade them to a reconciliation, and to the practice of mutual love and charity amongst themselves. After his Sermon it was his custom to distribute money amongst the poorer sort, and many times to visit them who were imprisoned, and after he had preached unto them in prison to bestow money largely amongst the prisoners: many of whom he brought home to repentance for their former passed life, and to honest conversation: and for many who were condemned to die he procured pardon, and saved their lives.  
When we were children a rebellion was raised in the North by the Earls of Northumberland and Cumberland. Which Mr, Gilpin perceived before hand by certain evident signs. And because he understood that in so troublesome a time he should want power to defend himself and his own, he conceived thoughts of going aside for a while. Therefore after a speech made to the Masters and Scholars that they should demean themselves carefully and peaceably until his return, himself went to Oxford: residing there until the Queen's Army under the command of the Earl of Suff●x should make speed to Durham for discomfiture of the rebels. The rebels were now within Durham, but at the report of the Queen's Army they dispersed themselves and fled. After they were put to flight, there was sharp and cruel proceedings against the simpler sort, whom the rebels had drawn to their faction under pretence of serving the Queen: for the silly people were solicited as for the Queen's service, the rebels in all places giving it out that they stood for the Queen. During the time that the rebels had possession of Durham with their Army, Mass was sung in the Cathedral Church day by day; some of them flew out as far as Houghton. There they found Mr. Gilpi●s barns full of corn, young cattle ready fatted, and many things provided for hospitality: but they make waste of all, selling the corn, consuming the fatted ware, and basely making havoc of all those things which Mr. Gilpin had provided for pious and honest uses. There was among them one fellow whom Mr. Gilpin had sometimes saved from the gallows, and this knave was the wickedest of all the rest in rioting away Mr. Gilpins' goods. Now after the rebels were dispersed, & proceeding made against the simple people somewhat more sharply than was fitting, Sir George Bowes, who was constituted marshal for that purpose, Mr. Gilpin who was now come home again begged the lives of many by his intercession: for he knew well enough that many men were drawn as it were into the snare, not wilfully, but through ignorance, and through the fraudulent practices of others. And now the whole trouble being over, Mr. Gilpin returneth to his accustomed endeavours of studies and charity. There was betwixt the most learned and reverend james Pilkington then Bishop of Durham, and Mr. Gilpin more than ordinary friendship through their long acquaintanc and parity of dispositions. The Bishop was wont oftentimes to visit Mr. Gilpins at his house, and the Bishop also incited the rather by Mr. Gilpins' example builded a school at Lancester, and brought the statutes of the school to be over looked and examined by Mr. Gilpin. He was also familiarly acquainted with, and marvaylously respected Thomas Levery a godly and learned man master of Sherborn-hospital. There was at that time, published a book of Thomas Cartwrights touching Ecclesiastical discipline which book was exceedingly liked by many in those days. William Bir●h a Canon of Durham, a man learned, but too hastily inclining to that form of discipline which Cartwright had proposed sent one of these books to Mr. Gilpin to read over; requesting him to look over the book, and that he would be pleased to writ back his opinion concerning the same. Birch seemed to be somewhat in haste upon the matter: for very shortly after he written again to Mr. Gilpin, requesting him to send over his book with his censure of it, before M. Gilpin had read it all over. Mr. Gilpin did accordingly send back the book, and a letter to Mr. Birch, and as he had an excellent vein in versifying, in the end of his letter he wrote certain verses, which are these that follow, 
Multa quidem legi, sed plura legenda reliqui,  
Po●●hac qu●m dabit●r copi●, cuncta legam:  
Op●ant ut 〈◊〉 ma●●lis Ecclesi● cunctis,  
Praesens vit● negat: vita futura dabit.  Which verses of his I have thus Englished, 
Much have I read, but more remains behind,  
I'll read the rest when I can leisure find:  
Men wish our Church no blemish had at all,  
It cannot be so here, in heaven it shall.   
THere came unto Mr. Gilpin a certain Cambridge man, who seemed a very great Scholar, and he dealt earnestly with Mr. Gilpin touching the discipline and reformation of the Church. Mr. Gilpin told him that he could not allow that an human invention should take place in the Church in stead of a divine institution. And how? Do you think, saith the man that this form of discipline is an human invention? I am, saith Mr. Gilpin, altogether of that mind. And as many as diligently turned over the writings of the ancient fathers will be of mine opinion. I suspect that form of discipline which appeareth not to have been received in any ancient Church. But yet, saith the man, latter men do see many things which those ancient fathers saw not: and the present Church seemeth better provided of many ingenious and industrious men. Mr. Gilpin seemed somewhat moved at that word, and replied: I for my part do not hold the virtues of the latter men worthy to be compared to the infirmities of the fathers. The other man made answer that he supposed Mr. Gilpin to be in an error in that point. But Mr. Gilpin used these words purposely because he perceived that this fellow had a strong conceit of I know not what rare virtues in himself, which opinion Mr. Gilpin was desirous to root out of him. George Gilpin who had most elegantly translated out of low Dutch into English the book of Philip Marnixius Earl of Aldegun● called the Beehive of the Roman Church came out of the low Countries unto Bernard. This man was brother to Bernard and Agent for the Queen with the States of Holland, amongst whom he left behind him a famous memory of himself for his singular wisdom. And having lived for some space most lovingly with his brother Bernard being about to return from Holland, he had advised with the Queen and Council of the Kingdom touching the affairs which he had to treat upon with the States in the Queen's name. The Earls of Leicester and Bedford exceedingly favoured the two brothers, George for his wisdom in affairs of state, and Bernard for his holiness of life. These requested George to persuade his brother Bernard to declare in wrighting the motives and means of his conversion from the Roman superstition to the light of the Gospel. To which request Mr. Gilpin answered that he would do it plainly and sincerely without any dissimulation. The copy of his letter to that purpose I found among his papers to be thus.  
The letter of Bernard Gilpin to his brother George in the year of our Lord 1575.  
YOu do request (brother) that I should relate unto you somewhat at large the manner and means of my conversion from superstition to the light of the Gospel: a thing, which I suppose, is not unknown unto you to have been a work of many years: nevertheless as time and health shall give leave I will conceal nothing from you herein. I will confess mine own shame to the confusion of the Devil; I will say with the Apostle, 1 Tim. 1. 13. I was received to mercy, for I did it ignorantly. In the days of King Edward I was drawn to dispute against certain positions of Peter Martyrs: howbeit out of a natural inclination I have always so far as I could avoided controversies and disputations. And when I was but a young Divine, and had found out by holding that disputation that the foundation where to I trusted was not so solid as I formerly supposed it, I thereupon began somewhat seriously to read over the Scriptures and writings of the Fathers, that I might confirm myself in my received opinions. But God freed my mind from that prejudicate conceit by little and little, and the zeal which I had for the Popish religion began to cool in me every day more and more. But on the other side I felt certain sparkling desires which urged me to search out the truth. In the mean while I repaired to the Bishop of Durham, that I might be further instructed; who told me, that in the matter of Transubstantiation, Innocentius the Pope the third of that name had done unadvisedly, seeing he had made it an Article of faith. And he did further confess that the Pope had committed a great fault in that touching Indulgences and other things he had taken no better order for the quiet of the Church. Afterwards I conferred with Doctor Redman, in whom I reposed much hope in regard of his eminent virtues, and great scholarship. He affirmed unto me that the book of Common Prayer, was an holy book▪ and agreeable to the Gospel. These things cast me into many distractive thoughts. After this one of the fellows of Queen's College in Oxford told me that he heard Doctor Chedsey saying among his friends, that it must come to this point, that the Protestants must grant us a real presence of Christ in the Sacrament, and we likewise give way unto them in the opinion of Transubstantiation, and so we shall accord. Doctor Weston made a long Oration touching the Supper of the Lord to be administered under both kinds. Mr. Morgan told me that Doctor War● a man most famous for life and learning had affirmed unto him that the principal sacrifice of the Church of God was the sacrifice of thanksgiving. This was his answer when I had demanded of him what could be said for the sacrifice of the Mass. The most learned Bishops in this Kingdom at that time confuted the primacy of the Pope both in words and writing.  
Mr. Harding being newly returned home out of Italy, in a long and famous oration so plainly set out and painted to the life the Friars and unlearned Bishops, who had met at the Council of Trent in their green gowns, that it abated in me and in very many others a great deal of that opinion and confidence which we had reposed in General Counsels.  
These things and many others gave me occasion diligently to search the Scriptures and the writings of the Fathers: whence I had began to observe very many and very great abuses, and some enormities oftentimes used, and as oft defended in Popery, and to judge reformation necessary on the other part. Whiles I went on in this manner, I was overruled by the persuasions of some friends to accept of a Parsonage; whereunto I was drawn against my will. If I offended God in undertaking the charge before I was a more sufficient scholar, and better grounded in Religion, I ask God forgiveness. Nor do I doubt but I have obtained mercy in his sight. Before I was entered upon that Parsonage I preached before King Edward at Greenwich a Sermon which had approbation of many good men.  
The Lord Treasurer being at that time Secretary obtained for me from the King licence as a general Preacher throughout the Kingdom so long as the King lived which time fell out to be not much above the space of half a year after. In my Sermons I handled those points wherein I was best grounded, and wherein I was undoubtedly resolved o●t of the Scriptures. I examined the Mass; and the abuse so far as I was able to observe at that time consisted in the too much reverence, and grosser worship of the people; because I believed not Transubstantiation. Nevertheless at some times I read Mass, but seldom and privately. Then was I forthwith sent beyond the Seas that I might oversee the printing of my Lord Bishop Tonstall his book touching the Eucharist, with two or three books more as you know, at Antwerp: where I beheld for the space of three years at Paris, Antwerp, and L●va●n●, and in some other places very gross Idolatry. This thing did more and more estrange me from the Popish religion: most of all because the learneder Papists did in their disputations in schools deny, the adoration of images, yet allowed the intolerable abuse thereof in their Churches. And now whiles with all earnestness I advised with the holy Scriptures, and writings of the Fathers, I observed many things alienated mine heart from the Popish Church. I observed in that Church notable corruptions of the doctrine of the Bible, many things in the Sacraments instituted against Scripture, some Sacraments lately added: In the Sacrament of the Supper the one half taken away: the fiction of Transubstantiation brought in: traditions of the Church made equal to the word of God, and to the holy Scriptures, and to be embraced with the same pious affection: the worship of Images brought into the Church: all things performed in the Church before the people in an unknown language: but above all the rest the question concerning Antichrist troubled me most, because it seemed not to me a safe thing to make a separation from the Popish Church, except I were first fully resolved that the Pope is Antichrist: and in this point I cannot easily express with how many difficulties and distractions I was daily opposed. Afterwards I was sent for home again by the Bishop, who conferred upon me the Rectory of Essi●●don: where when I had endeavoured to be constant in preaching, I observed that I had upon a sudden procured to myself many and heavy enemies thereby: for I had preached against plurality of Benefices, and Nonresidency. Mine adversaries cried out that all such as broached that doctrine would prove heretics quickly. Others were much displeased with me for that I had preached repentance & salvation by Christ. They laid to my charge that I did not make whole Sermons about Transubstantiation, Purgatory, Holy water, the worshipping of Images, the invocation of Saints, and the like; which they could never hear come from me. And by how much the people were more earnest to resort to my Sermons, so much the more eagerly they took offence at me and hated me. A very small matter brought me into danger. An honest Matron, because in her pangs of childbirth she had often called upon God, was grievously checked by the other good women, because she had not called upon the blessed Virgin. To whom she made answer: I have heard▪ (saith she) a certain famous Preacher, one Gilpin, a man that came lately out of France, if he will advise me to call upon the Saints, I will take his counsel in that point. I told them that I durst not persuade any one to invocate the Saints, but that those who call only upon God for help in all their da●gers, have a commandment from God so to do, and a firm promise for the infallible comforting of their conscience. This occasion stirred me up many foes. In the mean while I often conversed wit● learned men, my very loving friends and kindred. I demanded how it came to passed that there was no reformation of so many abuses touching Images, Relics, Pilgrimages, buying and selling of Masses and Trentals, with many other errors which in the time of King Edward the Papists had not only confessed to be superstitious, but had promised reformation of them▪ and professed that it was meet the Church should be purged of them: which thing they said they would gladly do, if ever the power came into their hands again. When I asked of them in which of these points reformation should begin, in expectation of which thing I returned from Paris the more willingly, answer was made unto me, that no way m●st be given to the ignorant multitude. If (say they) we once confess any errors at all, they will straightway cry out that many other things also are worthy to be reform, besides those which we shall yield unto them, and so they will be still growing upon us, that we shall never have done reforming. These things wounded me grievously, and drove me to seek out for peace of conscience. After these things, having preached two or three Sermons at Newcastle, I began to explain my conscience more at large, where there were gathered twelve or thirteen Articles against me, and sent to the Bishop. And now had mine adversaries of the Clergy whom I had grievously provoked, obtained what they had long looked for. Nor would they give over until the Bishop had called me before their faces, to examine me in the point of the Sacrament. The Bishop showed me as much favour, I suppose, as he durst. In Transubstantiation he would not trouble me, only he inquired concerning the real presence, which I granted, and so was freed out of that danger. And as touching the real presence, I found not myself fully resolved. I supposed that therein lay hid a mystery above my capacity. Nevertheless my conscience did sometimes chide me, for that I had before them yielded in express words to a point which seemed unto me doubtful. But I hoped that God would pardon mine ignorance, and in time bring me to a greater light of knowledge.  
The winter following Queen Mary departed this life, and then I had begun to explain my mind more fully. For before that time (for I must needs confess the truth) weakness, ignorance, and the terrors of mine adversaries had somewhat restrained me. About Easter I was accused to the Bishop upon many Articles, both out of the Diocese of York, and of Durham, all which things nevertheless hurt me no further than thus, that the Bishop incited thereto by the complaints of mine adversaries struck my name out of his last Will and Testament, forasmuch as the Plebeians and ordinary sort of people were extremely offended with me. Now I in that I lost the Bishop's Executorship found myself eased of a great burden, and was glad thereof. But as for the favour of the multitude, I hoped in time through the goodness of God to recover it again, that my preaching might profit the more to edification, for otherwise I never desired the love of the vulgar. In harvest came the visitors, and Doctor Sands sent for me to Aukland, and appointed me both time and place to preach against the primacy of Durham. But he himself preaching the day before, whiles he seemed utterly to deny a real presence, had so wounded my tender conscience, that the night following I could not sleep at all; and I was much troubled in my mind, whether I should preach the next day or not. At the last I went almost out of my bed into the pulpit, where, I know not how it happened, whether it was through my disquiet of conscience, or want of sleep, or in that I had offended God to go up against my conscience, but me thought I did never feel such a want of utterance, and yet in my judgement I had provided matter enough, and weighty reasons. The next day all the Ministers in the Diocese were met to subscribe. Now so it was that in a point or two of the Articles my conscience did not appear to me so well resolved, as I could have wished. Therefore I stepped a little out of the way hoping that I might escape from being called. But when my Curate came to the book, who, I supposed, would never have stood at it by reason of some discourse I had formerly with him, he withdrew himself as unwilling to subscribe; and thereupon I was called for, and the book held out unto me; when straightways I had these thoughts in myself: My greatest confidence is reposed in this religion, because it giveth glory to God, and authority to the word of God for the rooting out of superstition, and humane doctrines. Only mine heart doubted in certain points of smaller consequence, which God (as ● hope) shall in time reveal unto me. If I shall refuse, I shall be a means to make many others to refuse, and so consequently hinder the course of the word of God. Therefore I subscribed, and the night following I sent unto Doctor Sands my protestation touching those two points which had troubled me. He being nothing offended taken my protestation very courteously: so my Curate subscribed also, and the day following fell sick. And while I was gone along with the visitors to Kendal and Lancaster, he died before my return having not been sick a whole week. Some supposed that subscription killed his heart, others said his infirmity proceeded from excessive drinking, God only knoweth what was the cause of his death. In process of time, me thought I grew more and more strengthened and resolved: but I will confess the truth, I had many and grievous temptations, which would not let me sleep for many nights, and drove me betwixt sleeping and waking into such dreams, as I think few men ever had the like. My nature did ever desire to avoid controversies. My chiefest com●ort and endeavour was to preach Christ, and salvation through Christ plainly and sincerely, and to comfort myself in the most sweet promises of holy Scripture, and in pouring out my prayers to God. The insatiable covetousness that could be restrained by no bounds of temperance and moderation, together with the pride and carnal liberty, and other vices of the same rank, which reigned among all sorts and degrees of people, but most of all in us the Priests and Ministers, who ought to be as we are termed, the Salt of the earth, have oftentimes broke my sleeps. But recovering I quieted myself in God, saying, surely how much more the iniquity of men doth abound, of 〈◊〉 the more glorious shall God appear in purging, sanctifying, and preserving his elect people in the midst of a froward generation. I was ever solicitous and wary either in subscriptions or oaths not to be catched in a trap. It appeared enough to me, and sufficient for the Doctors of the Church, that all men were satisfied in the Scriptures and the Articles of the faith. In other things as they are agreeable to Scripture: because the holy Scripture ought to hold sovereign place and preeminency above all the writings of all men. I remember when I went to be admitted into Orders by the Bishop of Oxford▪ that the Bishop's Chaplain did administer an oath unto us that we should allow the Ordinations already made, or hereafter to be made. Touching which oath when he considered somewhat seriously what it was to oblige ourselves to ordinations to come, concerning which we could resolve upon nothing, these things not only much distracted me, but troubled nine or ten more, who were sworn with me, men far better scholars than myself. For my part ● resolved to be sworn to no writings but with this exception, so far only as they are agreeable to the word of God. Now, how much it distressed my mind that an oath should be exacted in doubtful ca●es, I have explained in another discourse for the quiet of my conscience. And this I may boldly say, that since ● took the ●●urse to explain mine infirmities by writing, not fearing who took notice of them, so that it might benefit myself or others, I have found exceeding peace and quiet of conscience, and ● am day by day more edified and consumed by the reading of Scripture. And in this case, ● praise God, that when I found myself most distressed and weak my faith in the mercies of God was so firm, as ● assure myself, that if at that very instant I should die, yet I have had a●d do retain that confidence, that these distractions could nothing hinder my salvation. I am resolved with St. P●●l▪ I 〈◊〉 obtained mercy, for I did it ignorantly; and with job, Although the Lord kill me, yet will I trust in him. Yet I have full many a time asked God mercy for these offences, infirmities, ignorances, and all other things, and will ever do so whiles I shall live in this world. God be merciful unto us all.  Thus far Mr. Gilpin. 
THou seest (Reader) Mr. Gilpins upright dealing: He speaketh nothing of his own virtues, but he is wholly taken up with the acknowledgement and enumeration of his weaknesses. Perhaps some Critics will laugh at the simplicity of the man, but I herein admire his Apostolic spirit, who after the example of blessed Paul dare not boast of himself, but boasteth in his infirmities, that Christ may dwell in him. Nevertheless howsoever he is wholly taken up with declaration of his own infirmities, and hath of set purpose spoke nothing of his own virtues, yet this is apparent that he was twice accused by his back-friends to Bishop Tonstall in the days of Queen Mary: But Bishop Tonstall who abhorred to shed blood was a sweet defence to Mr. Gilpin against the diverse informations of his enemies. At the last he was accused to B●nner Bishop of London who gave order to a Messenger for his apprehension. Mr. Gilpin perceived the imminent danger, (for he had notice that a Messenger was dispatched to attach his body) and perceiving the relief which he had found in Tonstalls clemency would now fail him, he prepared his holy soul for Martyrdom: commanding William Airy the Steward of his house to provide him a long garment, that he might go the more comely to the stake. But the sudden death of Queen Mary freed the man from this danger. After the publication of the Council of Trent, when by chance there happened some discourse betwixt Mr. Gilpin and Thomas Levery, and Levery had asked the question what Mr. Gilpin thought touching that Council: The Fathers of the Council of Trent (saith he) have done the Church a very shrewd turn: for that which was indifferent before times they leave not so now. I remember that Bishop Tonstall often told me that Pope Innocent the third had done very unadvisedly, in that he had made the opinion of Transubstantiation an Article of faith: seeing in former times it was free to hold or refuse that opinion. Moreover the Bishop told me that he did not doubt but that himself, if he had been in that Council, could have prevailed with the Pope to have let that business alone. And what he judged concerning Transubstantiation, the same may a man resolve touching all Popery after the publication of the Council of Trent, for that which was indifferent before, now they do not suffer so to be. Therefore I suppose that the times of our forefathers though oppressed with much ignorance were happier far than the ensuing Ages can be under the Papists: because they have now altered in the Council of Trent many institutions of the ancient Church. For whereas they have placed a part of the rule of faith in Traditions, that is a thing which was never done in the Church before. Many things which were permitted to be taught in the Church formerly touching justification and the Sacraments are not now tolerated. And upon these occasions the Fathers of the Council of Trent have laid upon other Churches a necessity of making a separation from the Church of Rome: wherein me thinks that they have not dealt advisedly: For the Church is thereby distracted into differences and factions, and whatsoever was formerly indifferent in doubtful points, the Fathers of Tren● have made it all necessary, and took upon them a very hard task. There were some Papists, who perceiving Mr. Gilpin quite alienated from the Popish religion which he had first been of in the days of his ignorance in his youth, took many courses to have recalled him, if they could possibly. Amongst them was one Thomas Gelthrop a man well descended, and a kinsman of Mr. Gilpins. This man wrote a letter to Mr. Gilpin, wherein he dealt earnestly with him not to forsake the religion of his forefathers. In that letter Gelthrop amongst other things inserted these words. You have a great and a good report both at London and in all other places: And I am of this opinion that either you will do the Church a great deal of good if you adhere unto it, or else (which God forbid) you will stir up more mischief in the Church then ever Arrius did. That sin aboundeth it is not the fault of the Mass or of the Matins, but the pernicious doctrine and filthy life of the Clergy and of others. They have already reform the Communion, and have published a book of the reformed Leiturgy. But this reformation hath not removed the evil, because we see the people grown far worse than before. These things I found out amongst M. Gilpins' papers, but I could not possibly get any more out of them, the most of them were so exceeding worn and defaced.  
Unto this letter Mr. Gilpin made answer, which I found entire. The Letter had this superscription.  To his Cousin THOMAS GELTHROP. 
And thus it was.  
GRace and peace. Your large Letter was brought unto me, when I had small leisure to answer it, as he can tell you who bringeth back this unto you. Howbeit I thought it not fit to let him come back without an answer, albeit the conclusion of your letter gave me small encouragement to write. For who would take the pains to write unto you, seeing you are fully resolved and determined, as you affirm, never to be persuaded from your opinions by any argument a man can bring? It could not choose but be a most grievous thing to the Prophet jeremy, when he cried out to the people, Hear the word of the Lord, that they should answer with a stiff neck, we will not hear. But let us leave these things to the divine operation, which is able to mollify your heart, and to open the ears of the deaf Adder that stoppeth the same against the voice of the charmer, charm he never so wisely. You look back upon the ages passed, you do well, if also you look back to the times of the patriarchs, the Prophets, of Christ, and his Apostles, and other holy men, with whom if you advise without prejudice of blinded affection, they will lead you far from that blindness, from that error, I may well say, from that gross idolatry, which crept into the Church while men slept. Whereas you are grieved at the fall of Monasteries and suppression of Abbeys, I am sorry you should be blinded in this case. For very many of your own religion have confessed that they could not possibly subsist any longer, because the cry of them like the cry of Sodom was ascended into the ears of God. Their Sodomitical crimes were so manifest that they could not be longer concealed, the Lord could endure those wicked men no longer. But if you call to mind what enemies those men were to the Ministry of the word of God, taking away most sacrilegiously the maintenance allowed for the Ministers of the word, hardly leaving in the most Countries any one Rectory unspoiled, you would easily judge that those men could not possibly stand and flourish any longer. This is the fruit of Luther's doctrine, and the whole word of God truly preached, that God shall destroy that wicked one with the breath of his mouth.  
Whereas you say that he which cometh to God must believe, I wish you would consider that thing rightly, that faith and religion can never find peace and quiet but in the sacred word of God. Faith cometh by hearing, and hearing by the word of God. Whence it cometh that whoso believeth in Bulls, Indulgences, Images, and many other vain constitutions of men cannot possibly have true faith. All those things vanish away, wheresoever the word of God hath power and authority. That rest which you say that you find in the Church of Rome your Catholic Church forsooth, if you take not the better heed, will undoubtedly fail you in your greatest necessity. You say that you do not find in that religion any thing opposite to the Gospel. But if you look narrowly into it, you may see in that religion the word of God rejected, the golden Legends and Festivals, with Bulls, Indulgences, and many other things of that sort for the most part obtruded upon men in stead of the word of God. But here is a large field and I want leisure. I hope I shall get opportunity to write unto you more at large concerning these things. God open your eyes that you may see the abomination of that City which is built upon seven hills: Apoc 17. Look over Hierome upon that place. If in that Church the Sacraments be corrupted, will you reject the grace of God when he openeth the eyes of his servants to reform these corruptions? Beware of that fearful sentence of Saint lohn: He that is filthy let him be filthy still. You allege that if you should now begin to drink of another cup, etc. quite forgetting that in the Church of Rome yourself and all other Laymen are utterly excluded from the cup, contrary to the manifest commandment of God, Drink ye all of this. Your learnedest Doctors of Louvain with many others were not able to defend so great an abuse of the Supper. If you call us heretics, and fly from us, because we have forsaken so great abuses, superstitions and errors, to the end that we might draw near to the sacred word of God, and holy institutions of Christ, we can appeal from your uncharitable prejudice, and are able to say with Saint Paul, I little esteem to be judged of you, it is the Lord which judgeth me.  
But you allege that it is a perilous thing to hear our Sermons. So said the persequ●tours of Saint Stephen, Act. 7. and stopped their ears. So spoke Amazia touching Amos the Prophet, Amos. 7. The land is not able to bear all his words. Like unto which are those whom David compareth to the deaf Adder which stoppeth her ears, Psal. 58. Like unto whom were many in the time of the Apostles unto whom the Gospel was hid, in whom the God of this world hath blinded the minds of unbelievers, that the light of the Gospel should not shine upon them. Touching those Roman thunderclaps there is no great cause why we should be afraid, those bugbears were invented to affright children, they are not to be feared by men of years. Erasmus calleth them Brutafulmina, foolish false-fires. If there were in the Pope and his Cardinals who curse us with so much bitterness but the least resemblance of Peter and Paul; had they the servant charity of those holy men, and their exquisite diligence to feed the flock of Christ day and night, with other Apostolic virtues: then were their threats to be feared: but they have changed the humility of Peter into the pride of Lucifer, the poverty and daily labours of the Apostles into the riches of Croesus, and into the laziness and luxury of Sardanapalus. To conclude, what agreement is there betwixt light and darkness. God hath promised in the second of Malachy, that he will curse their blessings, or turn their blessings into curses, who consider not in their hearts to give glory unto his name. See Hierom upon the third of Esay: Those which call you blessed, seduce you: How many thousands of men are seduced by Indulgences, which are extended to many thousands of years, if the price be according? The world seeth and is grieved to behold how the brothers of Saint john's Hospital, had granted licences to those who had laid violent hands upon themselves to enjoy the burial of other Christians with many such like flattering fictions. As touching the life of your grandmother, I never heard burr well; but I suppose she was a superstitious woman. If she kept you at home with her out of her tender▪ and natural affection only, and not to prevent your knowledge of the Gospel, I shall desire pardon for my mistaking. Yet many men are persuaded that she and your uncles withheld both from yourself and your sisters a great part of the portion which was left unto you. But let these things pass, seeing I have not been able to effect, nor have effected as yet any thing for you, that money which was given to me by legacy, I will bestow upon your sister, if it please her, with some addition also, because I am persuaded she hath more need of it. As concerning the Catholic Church, God is my witness, that it is the whole desire of mine heart, and mine assured confidence, that I shall die a member of it. But if I shall be so far misled by the pompous outside of the Church of Rome, as to approve those intolerable abuses, superstitions, and idolatries, which so many ways rob God of his honour, I should not believe myself a member of jesus Christ. If you approve of none interpretation of Scriptures, but what proceeds from Rome, you may easily affirm whatsoever you please. There is nothing so absurd, or so contrary to the truth of the eternal God, which may not be wrested by their corrupt glosses, as it may seem to serve to a wicked cause. With such kind of men is no disputation to be held. As for that which you infer touching Arrius, and the rest of that rank, it is nothing to the purpose. For all the writings of the Prophets, together with other manifest Scriptures, whereunto we ought to have recourse in doubts of this nature, and to be concluded by them, do evidently confound Arrius, and all the rest his partakers. Consubstantiality, which the greeks call 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, is confirmed by very many evident testimonies of Scripture. But so is not Transubstantiation, which hath so molested the brains of Scotus, Occam, Biel, and all the school Divines, that many a time they are shrewdly put to it, what they had best stay for removing the absurdities which arise therefrom. Therefore it is apparent that it is a mere fiction without any foundation of Scripture. So that Scotus, (as Bishop Tonstall did many times ingenuously confess) was of opinion that the Church might better, and with more ease make use of some more commodious exposition of those words in the holy Supper. And the Bishop was of the mind that we ought to speak reverently of ●he holy Supper, as did the ancient Fathers, but that the opinion of Transubstantiation might well be let alone. This thing also the same Bishop Tonstall was wont to affirm both in words and writings, that Innocent the third knew not what he did when he put Transubstantiation among the Articles of faith, and he said that Innocentius wanted learned men about him, and indeed, (saith the Bishop) if I had been of his Council, I make no doubt but I might have been able to have dissuaded him from that resolution. When Mr. Cheasey said that the Catholics should do well to give way in the Article of Transubstantiation, I heard not himself speak the words, but one which heard him told me. Whereas you write touching the imprisonment of him and others, truly I am of the opinion, that as for this present life, they live most quietly. Nor do I think that themselves could have made choice of a more retired kind of life, if the sting of conscience trouble them not, for maintaining a cause that is not good, but built upon the sand. But if you will needs have it that men must of necessity connive at the beastly and abominable lives of so many Roman Bishops, above thirty, you may also find fault with our Saviour himself, for discovering so plainly the pernicious enormities, both of the pharisees, (who in those times were accounted forsooth the holy Fathers) and also of their Fathers then dead: you may blame also the Prophet Esay, who will not have evil men to be called good, denouncing a curse against that man, who calleth him holy that is not holy: find fault also with Saint Bernard, who calleth them the Ministers of Antichrist. Those things which other godly men have written to this purpose, do worthily excuse us. He blameth those things openly concerning which he confesseth that it is a shame to speak: I reveal not hidden things (saith he) but I reprove things publicly known: unto which thing we are even obliged by the commandment of God. Esaia. 58. 1. Show my people their sins: whereas you say that five Sacraments are rejected by us, you do not say well, rejected, for we use them reverently, according to the word of God, nor do we take away the name of a Sacrament, as the word Sacrament is generally used, as was the washing of feet, and many other things which may retain the name of a Sacrament in general, as also they do among the Fathers. But the ancient Fathers and some School men do affirm, that only Baptism and the Eucharist are properly called Sacraments: It is also the testimony of Bessarion: We read (saith he) of these two Sacraments only manifestly delivered in the Gospel. I wonder at you that you do so wrest the words of Saint Paul to such a sense, as that out of those words all the Ceremonies of the Mass may be established: whereas you cannot be ignorant, that the greatest part of them hath been added many ages after by the Bishops of Rome. We read also that the Apostles consecrated with the words of the Gospel, and with the Lords prayer. Moreover, whereas Saint Paul had even at that time ordained already, that the people should not only eat the bread with the Minister (as his own words do manifestly prove but also drink of the cup, you see how there fellows have utterly ●obbed the Church of that ordination of Christ and his Apostles: but how justly, or by what good authority they have done thus let themselues look unto it, I could never in my reading find 〈…〉 ground of that authority. I find the contrary, to 〈◊〉 that all men are altogether forbidden to alter any thing touching the word and will of God, delivered in the holy scriptures.  
You say that the Scriptures allow prayer for the dead, and that you know this well enough. Saint Hierom saith, that the book of Maccha●●s is profitable for manners, not to establish doctrine. You allege that Saint Augustine doubted in many places whether there be a Purgatory. If that be a doubtful point than it is not to be obtruded as an Article of faith; but to be left indifferent. For, faith is a substance: Heb 11. 1 and faith ought not to waver, saith Saint james, The Bishop of Rochester writeth concerning Purgatory, that amongst the Ancients, there was either little or no mention of it. And so long as there was no care taken for Prgatorie, no man sought after Indulgences. And so those innumerable gains by Pardons were never known before Purgatory was found out. What shall we now say to be meant by those words of Saint Paul, esteeming gain godline, if this be not it. This Mart hath fed and still doth feed many idle bellies, who stoutly drive away the word of God to the best of their ability that they may not lose their Swine. Howbeit at the last the truth shall prevail, how ever these men have conspired together.  
As touching that which you add concerning the Invocation of Saints, Saint Augustine exhorteth us rather to stand to the Scriptures, then either to his writings, or the writings of others: and not to build upon his writings without the authority of Scriptures. And surely in this point my conscience is resolved, that there is not one point of all these which are controverted, that is proved by more evident testimonies of Scripture, than this, that God alone is to be prayed unto, and by one mediator, namely jesus Christ. Rom. 10. 13. How shall they call on him in whom they have not believed? We must believe in God only, therefore he only is to be prayed unto: That distinction touching Invocation and Advocation, that albeit you allow not the Invocation of Saints, at the least you allow their advocation, is frivolous: because, as those men rob Christ of his honour, who seek another mediator, so these are no less injurious to Christ, who seek another 〈◊〉, because we have Christ an Advocate with the Father. 1 job. 2: ●. and Esai. 63: he affirmeth that Abraham knoweth us not. Truly I assure myself, that Abraham the father of the faithful is no less a Saint, than any other of the Saints in heaven. You say, you believe the Communion of Saints, which we also do all of us believe: but you infer thereupon, that you understand not how there can be a Communion of Saints: if the Saints departed do not pray for us, and we call upon them for assistance. But the Church of Christ understandeth the Communion of Saints far otherwise. For in the usual phrase of Scripture, Saints are not understood to be those that are departed, and whose souls are in heaven, but those who are living here on the earth. Nor shall you almost through the whole Scripture of the Old and new Testament find the name of Saint given to any man, but that thereby is understood a Saint living here on the earth. Yea, sometimes the Scripture speaketh more expressly as in Psal. 16. 3: to the Saints which are on the earth: all my delight is in them. If any man ever had or could have a Communion with the Saints in heaven, surely David had it. But he expoundeth the communion wherewith he was acquainted, that is the communion of Saints on earth. So Saint john expoundeth this point. 1 Ioh: 1, 3. What we have seen and known: that declare we unto you, that ye also may have communion with us, and that our communion may be with God, and with his son jesus Christ. First, all the Church of Christ have communion with the Apostolic Church, that you may have communion with us: Secondly, this communion of Saints shall consist in the preaching of the word, and in the participation of divers gifts for the edification of the Church in public and private prayers. Thirdly, but in powering out of our prayers we have communion with the Father & the Son, or with the Father by the Son. here is no mention at all, no respect had to the Saints departed. This communion according to the words of holy Scripture extendeth no further than to the Church on earth. The Saints departed are not called in Scripture simply Saints, but the Congregation of the first borne in heaven, and the spirits of just and perfect men. Heb: 12. 23. After this life we shall have communion with them, but as for those who require this communion with them in this life, let them either product from Scripture what they say, or let them hear that sentence of our blessed Lord, In vain do ye worship me▪ teaching for doctrines the traditions of men. Math: 15 9  
I confess that if you have respect to the use of this our age, or some former ones, the deceased are called Saints, but it is not the custom of this or that age▪ but the rule of the holy Scripture that is propounded for our imitation. But what do we contending about this points? Those men who stand so hard for Invocation of Saints shall grant it us to be a thing indifferent: for indeed it is the safest way to go to the fountain of mercy itself, and let the streams alone. Nor suffer those men to persuade you, who say that they detract nothing from God, by detracting their prayers to the Saints: For no man can detract from God more than he who transferreth the worship due to God alone unto the creature. For invocation is a part of divine worship: and this worship he communicateth to no creature, who will not give his glory to another.  
As for your Arguments touching Images, and fasting (which point of fasting God forbid that either I or any one should deny, yea rather we exhort all persons to the practice of it, only we desire to have the superstition & wicked opinions removed) together with those other Arguments touching Relics, and Exorcisms in casting out unclean spirits forsooth, which thing when it leadeth to Idolatry is the sign of a false Prophet: Deut 13. Although answer might be made to all these with much ease, yet because I how want leisure, as being over leaden with employments, in regard that I am destitute of a Curate at this time, and have a very large Parish to visit, and also my body is weak, and subject to faint with weariness, being worn out with pains taking: therefore in all these respects, I have thought it fitting to defer mine answer to these points until another time. If you be unwilling to come to Houghton upon Sunday next, because you will not be an offence to my Parishioners (in which case you cannot blame me if I appear very careful of my Parishioners, in regard of the great charge laid upon me) for it is apparent in the times of the Prophets, and in all succeeding ages, since that the vulgar people have been too too pro●e to superstition, and a micheife doth increase easily, and creep further in one day, then good lessons in a whole month: therefore, sundry excepted (unless you will come up into the Choir, which in my judgement you ought not to refuse) if you come straightways after the Sabbath day is ended, and depart about Saturday noon, you shall be heartily welcome: therefore that excuse which you pretend ought not to retard your access. And although your last conclusion do (as I told you already) take away all hope and confidence from a man who shall confer with you, yet I will not cease to hope better things touching your conversion, than you seem to hope of yourself. Saint Paul had once a firm resolution to dye a Pharisy, and a persecuter of Christians, but God had reserved for him the treasure of power and mercy, to the end that he might ordain him to Preach that glorious namee which he had formerly persecuted. I commend you to the good●es of the Almighty God, which is able by the spirit of knowledge, to lead you into all truth. Fare ye well. From Honghton the 14. of October. 1580.  
Your loving Uncle BERNARD GILPIN.  
SO long as Bishop Pilkinton lived, Mr. Gilpin had a most kind friend of him, after whose decease Richard Bar●es succeeded in the Bishopric. This man was somewhat offended with Mr. Gilpin: And hereby hangeth a story which I must fetch somewhat far. Mr. Gilpin was accustomed sometimes to ride to Oxford, especially in his younger time when he was able to endure travel. Now it happened upon a time as he was upon his way towards Oxford, that he espied by the way side a youth one while walking and another while running. Mr. Gilpin demanded of him who he was, whence he came, and whither he was going. He made answer that he came out of Wales, and that he was bound for Oxford with intent to be a scholar. Mr. Gilpin examineth the youth, and findeth him a prompt scholar in the Latin, and that he had a little smattering of the Greek. And wilt thou (saith Mr. Gilpin) be contented to go with me? I will provide for thee. The youth was contented: whereupon Mr. Gilpin took him along with him first to Oxford, afterwards to Houghton, where he profited exceedingly both in Greek and Hebrew: whom Mr. Gilpin at the last sent to Cambridge. And this was that famous Hugh Bro●ghton, so exceeding apt in learning the Greek and Hebrew, but a man of a most inconstant nature. For when Mr. Gilpin grew old, whether it was in expectation of Mr. Gilpins' Parsonage, or for some other cause, it is reported that he procured Mr. Gilpin to be troubled and molested by the Bishop of Durham. Now so it fell out, that whiles the Bishop's mind began to be turned from Mr. Gi●pin the Bishop sendeth unto him and giveth him notice that it is his pleasure to have him to preach at a visitation in time and place appointed. Which thing fell out at the very same instant when Mr. Gilpin was preparing for his accustomed Northern journey, to wit, amongst them of Riddesdale and Ti●dale: wherefore he dispatched his servant unto the Bishop to make his excuse unto him, and to inform his Lordship the reason of his purposed journey; and to entreat the Bishop that he be pleased to appoint some other to preach at the visitation, seeing there were many who would be willing enough to preach at the visitation, but that there was not a man who would perform that duty among those borders if he neglected it: and that at any other time he would be ready to perform his duty. The servant having been with the Bishop returneth to his Master, who demanded of him whether he had made his excuse to the Bishop: I have, faith he: well, and what (saith Mr. Gilpin) was the Bishop's answer? Whereunto the servant answered, the Bishop made no reply, but held his peace. Qui tacet, consent●re v●detur: saith Mr. Gilpin: He that replieth, not seems to consent. Therefore Mr. Gilpin went on with his purposed progress. Which thing so soon as the Bishop understood, he presently suspended Mr. Gilpin from all Ecclesiastical employment. Mr. Gilpin returning home findeth himself suspended, a thing that he little dreamt of, yet he took it patiently. The Bishop having notice that Mr. Gilpin was returned home, sendeth unto him instantly warning him to meet him and the rest of the Clergy at Chester. M. Gilpin being come to Chester findeth there the Bishop with many of the Clergy, who were all commanded to assemble themselves in the Church. The Bishop had at that time a brother of his own one john Barnes who was his Chancellor, a man, of whom it is hard to say whether he was more lustful or more covetous: who whereas he should have been the man that ought to have reform many enormities in the Diocese, was indeed the author of them, permitting base and dishonest persons to escape scotfree for a piece of money, so that the Bishop had a very ill report every where. When they were all met together the Bishop calleth Mr. Gilpin unto him, and saith, Mr. Gilpin, I must have you preach to day. Mr. Gilpin desired to be excused, for I came not (saith he) provided; and moreover I am suspended. But I can free you (saith the Bishop) from that suspension, and do now free you. Mr. Gilpin replied, that he durst not go up into the pulpit unprovided. But we know (saith the Bishop) that you are never unprovided, for you have now gotten such an habit of preaching, that you are able to perform it, if you please, even upon the sudden. Mr. Gilpin remained unmooveable in his resolution, answering that God was not so to be tempted, saying that it was well with him, if he were able to perform any thing in this kind upon mature deliberation. Whereunto the Bishop replied, I command you upon your Canonical obedience to go up into the pulpit forthwith. Mr. Gilpin delaying the time a little while, answered: Well sir, seeing it can be none otherwise, your Lordships will be done: and after a little pause began his sermon. As he was in his sermon he observed some extraordinarily prepared who wrote all he spoke. But yet he proceedeth in his sermon, until he came to a word of exhortation, and reprehension of vices. At the last he proceeded to the reproof of those enormities which then reigned in that Diocese, and were every where spoken of. And now, saith he, Reverend Father, my speech must be directed to your Fatherhood. God hath exalted you to be Bishop of this Diocese, and God requireth an account of your government thereof: a reformation of all those matters which are amiss in this Church is expected at your hands, and an account thereof is required. And now lest perhaps, while it is apparent that so many enormities are committed every where, your Lordship should make answer that you had no notice of them given you, neither did these things ever come to your knowledge, (which words Mr. Gilpin used, because he knew well enough that this was the Bishop's usual answer, that whensoever men made any complaints against the evil government of the Chancellor, the Bishop was accustomed to say, alas, these things I never knew of; what is done can not be undone; I will take a better order in these matters hereafter, if any such shall come to my knowledge.) Behold, said Mr. Gilpin, I bring these things to your knowledge this day: Let not your Lordship say these crimes have been committed by the fault of others without your knowledge: for whatsoever either yourself shall do in person, or suffer through your connivency to be done by others, is wholly your own. Therefore in the presence of God, his Angels, and men, I pronounce your Fatherhood to be the author of all these evils, yea and in that strict day of the general account I shall be a witness to testify against you that all these things have come to your knowledge by my means; and all these men shall bear witness hereof who have heard me speaking unto you this day. Now whiles that Mr. Gilpin thundered out these things, he did thereby put all his friends into a great fear, and distrust what would become of him. Therefore when he had made an end of his Sermon, his friends came about him and told him with tears, that now at last the Bishop had gotten that advantage against him which he had long desired and sought for: you have, say they, put a sword into his hand to slay you: if heretofore he hath been offended with you without a cause, what may you now expect from him, who being provoked shall make use of his own power to injure you by right or wrong? To whom Mr. Gilpin made answer, saying: be not afraid: The Lord God overruleth us all; so that the truth may be propagated, and God glorified, Gods will be done concerning me. After the Sermon they met all together at dinner, & all men were afraid that the Bishop would have done Mr. Gilpin some shrewd turn for his Sermon, and silently expected what would become of the matter. After dinner Mr. Gilpin cometh to the Bishop to see him, and to take leave of him, and so to return homewards. It shall not be so, said the Bishop, for I will bring you to your house; And so Mr. Gilpin, returned home in the company of the Bishop.  
And when they were now come to Mr. Gilpin●● house, and walked within into the parlour, the Bishop upon a sudden caught Mr. Gilpin by the hand, and used these words unto him: Father Gilpin, I acknowledge you are fitter to be Bishop of durham's, than myself to be Parson of this Church of yours: I ask forgiveness for errors passed; forgive me father: I know you have hatched up some chickens that now seek to pick out your eyes; but so long as I shall live Bishop of Durham, be secure, no man shall injure you. Mr. Gilpins' friends, that is all good men began to rejoice, and to give God thanks, acknowledging the powerful hand of God, in that the Bishop being so offended with him, was so prevented by the power of God, as that the thing which he had purposed for his disgrace, should turn to his greater credit. In the mean while Mr. Gilpin reaped the fruit of a pious life in all plentiful manner.  
After that age began to grow upon him, there was in the town of Newcastle one Genison who had received to home a son of his own brothers lately returned from the parts beyond the seas. This Genison was much aggrieved for that his brother's son was (as he understood) made a jesuit: whereupon he sent the young man to Mr. Gilpin, entreating him to have a care of him, and to dissuade him if he could possibly from his wicked and dangerous opinions. After that Mr. Gilpin had often conferred with him, he found the young fellow most insolently proud, and armed with boldness and impudence, corrupting the holy Scriptures with certain new and unheard of expositions. Whereupon Mr. Gilpin wrote to his uncle Mr. Genison, that he was a most audacious young fellow, and c●me not to him to be instructed, but to teach him rather.  
The young fell our, saith he, thinking I know not how, a great deal too well of himself, had an hope to draw me at these 〈◊〉, no acknowledge certain abrurdities. I see that the Jesuits have found out, 〈…〉 away all respect, and set upon men with impudence. They dare prove the Invocation of Saints from Abraham, Isaae, and jacob. This fellow doth obstinately affirm that the Church of Rome hath not erred in any one thing. Their most horrible errors touching Indulgences, falsified Miracles, falsified Relics, Pilgrimages, worshipping of Images, and the rest of the same sort, all these this wonderful man findeth out in the Gospel. And he standeth upon it stiffly that all these things are good and holy. I desire not to have any more to do with such a monstrous kind of men, with such fierce natures, who open their mouths against heaven, for what is it to open their mouths against heaven, if this be not, so violenty and disgracefully to handle the holy Scriptures? They have devised and daily do devise horrible strange expositions such as were never heard of before in the Church of Rom●: I therefore desire to rid mine hands of this fellow as of a scabbed sheep, for fear he might infect my whole flock.  
After that his lean body was quite worn out with diversity of painstaking, at the last even feeling before hand the approach of death, he commanded the poor to be called together, unto whom he made a speech, and took his leave of them. Afterwards he did the like to others. He fell sick about the end of Febr●ary, and after many exhortations used to the scholars, to his servants, and to divers others, at the last he fell asleep in the Lord in great peace, the fourth day of March, in the year of our Lord 1583. and in the 66. year of his age.  
He was tall of stature, and slender, being hawke-nosed. His clothes were ever such as cost not very dear. He could never away with gay apparel. In things belonging to his own body he was very frugal, and retained the austerity of the ancient. In things which might tend to the good of others he was exceeding bountiful, especially towards poor people and scholars. He desired still to keep his doors open for the entertainment of any poor 〈◊〉. In his own house he 〈◊〉 and ●ent at the most four and twenty scholars, sometimes fewer, but seldom. The greater 〈…〉 borders were poor m●ns sons, upon whom he bestowed meat, drink and cloth and education in learning. He was wont to entertain his Parishioners and 〈◊〉 at his table not only at the Christmas time, as the custom is but because he had a large and wide Parish, and a great multitude of people, he kept a table for them every Sunday from Michaelmas to Easter. He ha● the Gentlemen, the husband men, and the poorer sort set ●●very degree by themselves, and as it were ordered in ranks. He was wont to commend the married estate in the Clergy, howbeit himself li●ed and died a single man. He bestowed in the building, ordering and establishing of his school, and in providing yearly stipend for a Schoolmaster and usher, the 〈…〉 hundred pounds: out of which school he supplied the Church of England with great store of learned men. He was careful to avoid not only all evil doing, but even the lightest suspicio●s thereof. And he was accounted● Saint in the judgements of his very enemies if he had any such. Being full of faith unfeigned, and of good works, he was at the last put 〈◊〉 his grau● as a heap of wheat in due time swept into. the 〈◊〉.  
FINIS▪